Every Cat is gray in the Dark
by osheafernandes
Summary: Cat Royal soon finds herself edging her way into lady hood and is now expected to pay the bills herself. But with the industrial changes taking place, her friend Randall is caught in the clutches of factory life. Can Cat save Randall in time and make her way through the London crowd as an established writer? Reader join me as I embark on my latest journey for success
1. Prologue

Drury lane, December 1790- _Curtain rises_ PROLOGUE

"Catherine Royal! Where are you?! Come down this instant" screamed Mr. Truski in a bellow of rage. He was the theater's new producer and director of plays at Drury Lane...at least temporary anyways, since we couldn't avail to the services of the last one as he fled to Scarborough to look after his ailing mother.

Mr. Sheridan who was the owner of the theater was impoverished of a first class producer and time in his hands to produce the upcoming play _Another Time_ by Evelyn Montour. He was sweating bullets about getting a producer in such short notice. And he thought that Mr. Truski fit the bill perfectly. Don't get me wrong Reader I don't hold any particular dislike or grudge against that man...it's just that he lacks the means of getting people to work with him in a calm and collected manner because of his short temper.

"I'm here", I replied, "in the Green Room". The Green Room was basically where actors and other performers waited backstage when they were not needed onstage or in their dressing rooms.

"Get your butt here...now!" he bellowed again.

I got up from the massive pile of linen and other little shreds of cloth that I was sitting on.

I made my way to the ground floor in my usual manner: sliding down the rope, an act of mine that neither Mr. Sheridan nor Mr. Kemble appreciated saying that it wasn't ladylike or safe. I would've taken the stairs just to buy myself some time to behold the unfailing comical, exasperated face of Mr. Truski but in this situation where I was being beckoned in utmost urgency, I knew he meant business, therefore I refrained myself from taking the liberty to entertain myself.

"Yes Mr. Truski?" I said, most innocently.

"Do you have any idea how behind we are in running this show? And it's all because of your laziness. Did you get the flyers and pamphlets from Bale? And did you post the flyers in the street?!"

Without pausing for me to reply, he continued "No... you didn't, I thought as much. Why Mr. Sheridan even gives you accommodation in the theater when you can't even run a simple errand is beyond me" he finished in exasperation. Some of the background dancers giggled in childish delight at me.

"I am sorry sir; I will go this instant to Old Bale and get the printed matter." I responded meekly.

He grunted in satisfaction, happy that I had acknowledged his presence of authority.

"Oh and you know where to put them up don't you...not in the southern parts of the village where people hardly go, put them up somewhere near the butcher's, the post and possibly near the Thames." He said airily.

I nodded, happy that I could pass a few minutes at Syd's. I set out, taking a shortcut by jumping fences and yards and climbing gates, enjoying the fresh winter air as it blew against my face, throwing my red curls back. I breathed in the smell of freshly cut grass and the pollen of the potted summer flowers. Swinging my arms, I whistled as I strutted, far in the distance I could see Syd chopping up tender portions of loins.

I reached Bale's shop just in time as he was closing his shop for his lunch break. Seeing me, he smiled, "Ah me little Cat, I thot you'd never turn up for them flyaars. That new goose was at me for them precious prints."

I returned the smile. "Yeah he is getting pretty anxious about producing that play isn't he?" I questioned.

"Anxious? Why that man is r'duced to a bundle of nerves! But by any means I don't want to keep you waitin', no, that would never do for a gentleman to treat a young lady as yourself. Come dear."

As Bale was rummaging through the pile of papers, trying to procure my flyers, I sat patiently on the chair, glancing at the huge mountain of paper. I had never in my life recalled his shop being so flooded before!

"Why is your store so overcrowded all of a sudden? Who in the whole of London would order so many copies of the same thing?" I broke out.

"Well some man came to me some time ago and said that his situation called for desperate measures and he needed a LOT of brochures...urgently. He said that he would also provide me with free ink and generous tips if I pushed away me oth'r orders and 'got goin' so I did" he chuckled.

I picked up a brochure; the title read "THE IMPOSSIBLE MADE POSSIBLE BY WALLACE'S MACHINES." The title looked depressing to me for some reason, so I put it back and read no further.

"Ah 'ere it is, sitting under them brochures, I must have put them there in absent-mindedness when my printer was boiling."

I thanked him and paid him his fee. I set for the eastern part of the village, where the post office was, putting up flyers on mail boxes, poles, street lamps, park benches and on birch and hazel trees. I also distributed pamphlets to people passing in the streets.

After I ran out of paper, I headed to Syd's to while away the time with a hearty talk.

Syd has always been a brother figure to me since I was abandoned by my parents at a very young age and Mr. Sheridan who took me in could also find no trace of my family so Syd has been the closest thing to which I could call my family. I arrived at the shop and Syd greeted me warmly without even looking up to see who had showed up. "Well, well 'ow are you Cat, I haven't seen you since morning, been running errands for Husky?" he asked. I nodded. Husky was our nickname for .

I nodded. "I just finished "spreading the word" as he likes to call it."

"Let's go for a walk Kitten, I think that me legs are getting a lil' stiff standing up for so long." I readily agreed for a stroll, it was always so relaxing to walk with Syd. We exited the shop and passed the theater. "So Cat, 'ow's your writing carrying on?"

"Uh... it's pretty perpetual" I said more enthusiastically than I felt.

"Isn't your writin' been perpetual for far too long now?" he smiled a little slyly.

I shrugged. He continued "You know Cat you'll soon be edgin' your way into lady hood. You don't always expect Mr Sheridan to take you under his wing forever do you?" I was speechless that this perturbable topic concerning my future path was coming from Syd who usually had a rather wishful thinking mindset and optimistic view of life.

"Well it's not like I am slugging around my writing, I've been pretty busy as Mr. Truski has been sending me out on a couple of errands of late."I justified myself. . I suddenly remembered Mr. Truski, my duties were quickly prioritized and I remembered I had spent a little too much time dawdling - or perhaps I wanted to escape this pessimistic topic. Perhaps.

"Well I think I have to go back now and show my beaming dutiful face or else it could cross his mind to have a word with Mr. Sheridan to chuck me out of the theatre"

"Wait Cat before you leave I want to inform you that there's a writin' competition going on. Stories, essays, poems, anythink and everythink can be submitted, the last day is the 14th. It's taking place in Oxford Street. I 'eard of it yesterday and I thot you would like to join, so I signed you up."

My eyes grew wide with disbelief.

"You what?"

"Well I couldn't do anythink, could I, yesterday was the last day for registration and I thot you'd p'rhaps enjoy the experience, and you've always complained 'bout 'ow them publishers never appreciate you, so I enrolled you cos I knew you'd be mad at me if I didn't."

"Thanks" I said shortly. "And it's not my fault if those publishers don't know a good writing piece when they see it."

"Don't even mention it" he said casually.

"Oh and every writer faces their fair share of rejection, so I don't stand alone here when I say this but...yeah I'll dig up something for the competition, so don't you worry" I smiled.

"Bye Cat."

"Bye." I turned heel and left.

Back at the theatre in the wardrobe room, I jumped on my couch and heaved a sigh.

I checked the calendar, it was October 29th. I had more than a month to submit my story.

So that was the first part of my first story. I really hope you liked it, if not, please speak your mind in the comment section below.


	2. Chapter 1-White Slave man

**CHAPTER 1** – _White slave man_

I woke up early the next day; Syd's advice or rather warning had been an eye-opener for me. I had to start pursuing my career with avidity. I dug into my little trunk that contained my possessions, there was very little that I could truly call my own. My manuscripts were kept safely at the bottom of my trunk. I took out the precious inked paper and stared at them proudly, I had several which were left incomplete due to my feeling of incompetence but nonetheless it had come out my pen and no one else's. I made a vow to myself that I would write everyday to rejuvenate the joy I obtained from it. I sat down on the floor and hunched my back over my work, grabbed my pen and cleaned the nib till it shone. A shiver was sent up my spine as I could feel the familiar warmth at the bottom of my stomach. I leant closer until my pen was only a few inches away from the paper and then...NOTHING.

Believe me Reader when I say this, I have never felt so vacuous before in my life. I searched my brain for a good plot, dialogue, notion... anything- but I was only rewarded with a blank mind. I lay there sprawling on the floor, waiting for a marvellous idea to pop its way up in my head but I was bitterly disappointed.

Perhaps I was losing my touch; the only medicine for a blank mind was a fun activity. In a trice I swung down the rope, the theatre was quiet today except for the sound of nails being driven into the teakwood by our carpenter. I could also smell the scent of fresh paint. Mr. Truski was indeed anxious to get a move on. I could hear Mrs. Reid assigning her apprentice with exquisite needlework. I made a quick sharp turn towards the staff's pantry to stuff my pockets with a possible snack and to also avoid Mrs. Reid eye to catch me because the last thing I wanted was to darn the hem of the prince's cloak or someone's socks. I grabbed a small box of grapes and exited by the back door.

"Halo Syd"

"Cat, wot are you doin' 'ere so early?"

"Did I disturb you?" I asked him, ignoring his question.

" 'eaven's no, Cat. I was just takin' a lil'snooze." He looked at me for a moment, analyzing my countenace and then asked me "Are you bored Cat?"

"Well not exactly, just in need of a good dose of enjoyment. How about going fishing? It's been such a long time." He shook his head in disapproval.

"No, we can't go now, it ain't the right season. We'd only end up with a bunch of nipper fish if we're lucky." I sighed, I knew he was right.

"Well we can't go mud larking, it's too hot and so would the mud be."

"Yes" he agreed. "It'd be too hot" He paused to think for a moment, weighing out both sides of the debate to see which one certified better relishing of the early day ahead. "Well, fishing it is then." he confirmed. I let out a shout of joy.

"We'll call Frank and Lizzie too." I said enthusiastically.

"'Course." We set out with fishing nets and baits. We even had a couple of small nets but we barely used them due to our rare luck with it. Halfway on our journey, Nick tagged along with us. He is Syd's best friend.

We arrived at the gate of the Avons' house. Syd called out to Frank and Lizzie. Soon a little brown haired head bobbed at the curtain window. It was Frank.

"Hey Syd" he grinned. "Going fishing?" he asked when he saw our equipment.

Syd nodded. "Would you and Lizzie like to join us."

"Of course, we'll come right away." He said from the window. We could hear Frank informing Lizzie of our plans and Lizzie's excited return.

Soon enough, two children made their way down the front steps and onto the front porch. Frank arrived with a basket of tuna sandwiches, lemonade and some peaches.

"Hi Syd, Cat and Nick" greeted Lizzie warmly. "Beautiful day isn't it?"

"Oh yes, it is."I agreed, eying the basket welcomingly.

We reached the river in twenty minutes time. I stood at the brink of the river, inhaling the sweet, mixed scent of the river at feeling ever so more at home. I retreated back to where Syd was and took the small fishing net that he handed to me. I hooked on a small piece of fresh meat that Syd had chopped up before we set out for the river and made my way down. After carefully studying the pattern of the river for a few minutes, in order to comprehend the direction the fish were swimming, I carefully choose my fishing spot and cast my line.

The line was cast rather unskilfully, disrupting the calm flow of the water and scaring the school of fish away.

I kicked myself in frustration and wished I had already mastered the art of fishing after this was my seventh failed attempt. Nick, who was fairly good at fishing came up to me and corrected my mistake, and then rattled off again for a good ten minutes over the basics. I had gotten pretty tired of the same speech. "Remember Cat, if you want to master the art of fishin' you gotta master the art of patience."  
I nodded my head miserably. I soon gave it up after fifteen long, wasted minutes.

Frank took his turn next, on the same spot where I had just fished. He waited for some time for the fish to regain their tranquillity and then quietly cast his line. It landed beautifully in the water, the bait happily bobbing about, half immersed in the water.

I watched with unbroken interest, wondering at each turn whether he would be rewarded or not. It didn't take much time for his bait to catch the eye of a small dogfish surprisingly. I sprang to my feet to get a better sight. But Frank soon gave it up as soon as he saw that there was hardly anything to go around the fish, it was mostly just bones.

"Blast it, I think our chances of catching decent fish today will be really slim." He said.

"Don't flatter yourself with the victory though, all credit belongs to me, that was my spot which you stole."I retorted.

He grinned. "Well since we aren't going to be showered with luck, why not sit down to a snack?"

Syd and Nick quickly nodded their head in unison. They had not even bothered baiting their nets. They were too experienced to harbour any high hopes. As for Lizzie, she wasn't the type of person that suited fishing, but all the same she was fun to share an experience with.

Lizzie opened the picnic basket and was passing sandwiches and lemonade to everyone. I also opened my box of grapes and shared it. Everything was soon devoured in no time. I had two grapes in my hand and I was munching contentedly on the third.

Suddenly a small white rabbit darted out of the nearby bushes as it must have heard an intruding unknown pair of footsteps coming its way; it paused as if to plan its course of action as to where would be the safest place to run. It ran up behind me and decided to stay there. Obviously I thought it was the most adorable creature ever. I threw it a grape that I had concealed in my hand. It quickly jumped on it as if it hadn't eaten for days and started nibbling it.

As it was nibbling away at the grape, I could hear the footsteps. They sounded more distinct now.

A burly man made himself visible on the cobbled pathway. He was one of Billy's men. Billy was my nemesis who always turned up like a bad penny. There were some days where I felt like Billy and I were made for each other just to verbally torment each other. And then there were days where I had had accumulated thoughts that contained quite stronger feeling about his purpose here on this earth.

He had tried to kill me twice in the past before because I had "crossed my limits". So he tried to wring my neck. I don't wish to elaborate on the topic - but to call him a murderer wouldn't necessarily be completely correct. He lives life through fair street rules (and makes sure others do too) intermingled with a lot of mind games to receive a desired physiological reaction from his targeted opponent and if someone were to break the rules or double-cross him, they would find themselves in a pickle, sometimes for unfortunate souls, it could even mean death.

I had managed to get away from him in the event of him wanting to take away my life but keep in mind that these escapes were very narrow. With the help of Syd's strength which lies in his gang (the Butcher's boys) I was able to get out of even the most vulnerable situations.

Billy had sent this man for whatever purpose as he knew all too well if he so much as lays a foot here, without good reason, in our territory, he wouldn't be received on friendly terms. This man who goes by the name of Narg, more affectionately known as Shelly, approached us with a malicious grin on his face. Surprisingly he didn't come for me, as his direction of path was directed towards Syd. Syd had already spotted him, even though he was lying down, he looked at him wearily and alerted, his eyes fixed on his crooked face.

Shelly opened his mouth to speak and I was able to count all of his fillings. Not that I had never done this before, for some reason it just amused me to see how impoverished Billy's men were in wit and hygiene.

"'ello folks, now ain't you enjoyin' your picnic? Have you caught anythin'?" he asked nodding to our fishing rods?"

"No, what are you doing here Narg, you know full well that neither you nor that scumbag Billy can enter our domain." It was Syd speaking.

"Oh yes I know, but it's a lil' pressin' matter. Billy's callin' you." He informed. "Now."

Syd didn't look in the least disturbed "And why do you that I would want to answer to 'is beckonin'? Wot's this 'ere, pressing' matter?"

"Billy is tellin' you to come and find out."

This bemused me, what in the world was Billy driving at? And why was he being so discreet about it? Surely no one would be so interested in a conversation held between a handful of teenagers so much so as to eavesdrop.

Whatever the urgent matter was, Syd didn't look concerned so Shelly continued in order to convince him.

"It's about someone who Cat doesn't realize she cares about—someone by the name of -." He scooped down low and whispered the name to Syd. He turned white with fear but his face quickly straightened itself again and regained its composure.

This puckered up my interest, who was this person that had pricked Syd's concern and possibly his conscious and was he/she related to me. I looked over at Syd and I could see his face was boiling with furious rage at Shelly. Pleased that he had caught his attention, Shelly toyed with him "So do you now think that you would like to come; you don't have to bring Cat with you."

"Well he doesn't, but I very certainly am going to come. I want to know who this 'person I care about' is." I informed clearly and conspicuously.

"Calm down Cat." rumbled Syd, his voice unusually deep.

"Then tell me who it is or else I'll tag along, whether you like it or not." i said. Frank, Lizzie and Nick were all looking at us very awkwardly.

"Naw you ain't, I'll make sure you stay put 'ere, get that ginger 'ead of yours out of trouble."

I looked at him helplessly. "Don't worry," he said comfortingly. "I'll tell you who it is, but first let me sort this matter out with Billy." He gave me a reassuring smile but for a split second in his eye, I caught the slight feeling of doubt and hopelessness."

"Alright be back soon." He nodded and then turned to the waiting Shelly who quietly led him. Nick went along with Syd, Frank was about to tag along when Shelly stopped him. "Not you. Only Nick and Syd can come." And with a flick of his hand he dismissed Frank like as if he were fresh horse dung that was stuck at the bottom of his shoe and not the son of the duke of Arden.

I watched as Syd and Nick set out for the south of the village also known as the Rookeries, which was where Billy Shepherd and his gang of scoundrels lived.

Syd had dropped us off at the butcher shop along with some other boys of his gang to make sure I didn't follow him to the lions' den. I threw my head back in boredom and frustration.

"Are you sure you guys don't know who this person is?" I asked for the hundredth time as Frank and Lizzie shook their heads mutely.

"Cat I think it's best if you just forget about the whole incident, I don't see any reason fretting over it as you clearly won't get any answers until Syd arrives." Lizzie said quietly. Her calmness annoyed me a little but I didn't show it. "You're right, I'll just wear myself out if I continue in this state."

"Cheer up Cat, it's not like you're dying." Frank said.

"I think that I might as well be." I responded glumly.

For some reason, this person seemed to stir up my blood, I felt like I knew him or her but at the same time I knew that I didn't have the slightest clue of whom it might be. Damn it, Billy knew how to make me run around in circles. I sat there, basking in my sorrow, waiting for Syd to return. He didn't. Not until late in afternoon. By then Lizzie, Frank and even the lads had left for home.

When Syd did come, he was a little out of breath.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting for hours." I complained. I noticed his black face on which was smothered with thick smoke, he also smelt funny.

"Why do you smell like...drugs?" I pinched my nose as the smell was strong. I then widened my eyes in shock and before I could ask Syd whether he had consumed any for whatever stupid reason of his, he replied.

"I...uh...just went to the factory...with Billy."

"What? Why on earth did you spend two hours in a factory?"

"It's not what you think Cat...we're well in on the progress of the industrial revolution, in fact we're at the peak of it."

"Okay, so what were you doing, were you working? Did Billy strike some deal with you?" My heart skipped a beat; it was never a good idea to strike any sort of deal with Billy.

"No, he informed me about Randall, you remember him don't you?"

"Randall from the meat pie contest?"

He nodded. Yes, I remembered Randall, he was part of Syd's gang, an insignificant member really; a short, burly fellow with a lock of brown hair who loved to eat. He made his living off of insignificant bets that took place in the streets of London, some of them he was sure to win as their outcome was already pre-destined for, thanks to some tricks he had learned from growing up on the streets."

"What about him?" I asked.

"Well, it seems that 'e met up with a manager of some factory at the Jolly Boatman, five days ago and 'e stroke up a bet with 'im, you know the usual dice in a glass trick, one of 'is oldest and well known one. Well Randall didn't think 'e would know this one but the manager did."

"Okay, so what was on the line, what did Randall loose?"

" 'is freedom, the manager said that if 'e won, 'e would get to keep him as a slave for his factory."

"What?" I erupted. "That's preposterous, why would Randall take on such a reckless bet? Surely there was someone else who he could take on that wasn't familiar with at least one of his tricks!"

"There wasn't Cat, the manager was the only new soul that night, you see Randall was that 'ungry and his 'unger led 'im to 'is next foolish step."

Of course, that foolish pig head would take on anything just to satisfy his belly.

"Well, there is absolutely no way out for him then? Can't we appeal to a magistrate? After all Randall is white, no one can keep him against his will." I said, hoping that he wasn't as irrational as entering the bet to also sign official papers, but he was.

"Besides," Syd added "The 'ole world could care less for slavery, now that it needs the money from slavery to power up its machines. Free man or black man." He said soberly.

"So Billy has let you in on this, has he?" I inquired.

"Yes 'e 'as, but with a price of course..."

I looked at him expectantly for an answer. He heaved a long sigh and sunk into an old battered chair with an otter hide.

"As you can expect, you'll be the main target for 'is next plot."

"So what should I do, where should I go?"

Syd rolled in eyes at me in utter exasperation at my foolishness for having a predictable, reckless nature which made me an easy fun target for a crime lord like Billy Shepherd to chase around and watch me struggle.

"Billy wants you to go the 26th Avenue, south of the Rookeries at Saturday night."

"Alone?"

"Yes." Syd said briskly.

I had predicted right.

"But don't worry, I've promised Billy if 'e or anyone 'urts even a single 'air of your 'ead, I'll skin them alive.

Despite Syd's promise of protection, I cringed as my stomach unfurled into a roll of nervousness and fear, but I didn't bring up my distressed state to his notice. I nodded.

"Yes I know what you'll do Syd, but what I am worried about is what Billy is driving at. He never helps without profit or gain, how is this beneficial for him."

"'e kept mum on that , but 'e continually promised that you'd be safe, and if 'e broke 'is promise, 'e would surrender 'imself to us to deal with 'im, with no arms."

Syd said the last three words slowly and gravely.

"But how- what..." I couldn't frame the words, I was speechless. Normally, most of Billy's plots are predictable, his money-minded, blood thirsty nature saw to that.

"I just don't understand it." I said finally. I cast a glance at Syd; I could see that I was already piling on to his anxieties. He had a friend to save from the clutches of a slave master; he could do it more efficiently without having me to worry about.

"It's alright Syd, I can do it, it's just a matter of going there and waiting for Billy Shepherd, besides I've encountered that scoundrel in many a worse situation. This is nothing." I said softly but determined.

Syd covered his head with his palms. "Okay." he muffled. His eyes were now firm and steady; I could see that he was quickly gaining confidence as the plan took form in his mind.

"I'm sure you can handle yourself." He said, his mind racing to find alternatives but everything came to naught.

"I can. I'll meet up with up and try my best to procure any information from him." And with that note I bid him goodbye, and left back home. I was rather disappointed, really; a lovely day had come to a horrible end.

I arrived at the theater to find Mrs. Reid in a distressed state of mind; she had been giving an enormous load of clothes to produce on the table in a week's time. On spotting me, she beckoned for me. I braced myself for the upcoming string of anguished words to roll out of her tongue. I sensed she had wanted to vent about Mr. Truski's lack of sympathy and I was the best person where she could dispense the heavy load of words. At least I was of some use to her.

After the usual experience of my predicament, I went upstairs, took out my parchment of paper and started writing, this evening had definitely proven to serve for some very inspiring plots.


	3. Chapter 2- Industrial Revolution

**CHAPTER 2** – _Industrial Revolution_

My African friend Pedro, who was formerly a slave, had left Drury Lane with his skilled musical employer Signor Agnelli for a tour of Western Europe and the Americas. Having a natural music talent didn't allow you to be rooted to the same spot for too long. Without him, the taste of life was becoming more insipid by the minute. I checked the calendar and there were four more days for Billy's plan to be put into action.

I had my doubts and fears about this, but I couldn't back down, Randall's safety was

at stake and it wasn't my choice to step back, I had to help. How, I wasn't sure yet,

but I had some advantages; I had a pretty skinny bodice and would be able to fit

through any small holes and I had a way with words, perhaps I could butter the guards with a bit of influencing and if that didn't work out there was always my voice and acting skills: Drury Lane didn't leave me useless, I had learnt everything I could grasp from live performances, practices and coaching of other actors. But I was still suspicious of this plan and how Syd seemed to react to this.

I headed down to Frank and Lizzie's that afternoon for a cup of tea. Randall's imprisonment didn't burden my heart at all. In fact, I secretly thought he deserved what was coming for him; at least he would learn from this experience and when it would all be over, he would walk out from the factory a free man. I also thought that the work would also be useful for burning some of his tummy fat and he'd finally get a chance to know what a hard day's work really means.

I passed by the butcher's shop, it was closed since it was their off day, I could see Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher relaxing, sitting on chairs and talking.

I reached the Avon's house; I was, of course, wearing my best muslin dress with my hair properly combed, but even though, my red unruly curls refused to be tamed and was popping up very awkwardly at random places of my scalp.

I banged the lion head door knocker and waited. Within half a minute, a butler arrived, it was Joseph; he was my favorite butler, kind and adhering and didn't share the common aristocratic ideas of the wealthier class of society. This also applied for the Avon family; this unique and rare quality made them special and extraordinary to me; an example of model behavior.

Joseph led me from the porch to the veranda that ran alongside the mansion. Frank and Syd were perched on opulent leather sofas while Lizzie was resting on a white porch swing, leaning her head on fresh, clean white pillows. As soon as she heard the sound of my footsteps, she got up and kissed me on my cheeks. Frank stood up and grinned.

"Hello, how are you?"

The maid set out the cups and started pouring out the hot tea into which were put luscious sugar cubes.

"I am doing well, thank you." I replied. I poured some cream into my tea, blew the wispy smoke away and drank it. The hot liquid dribbled down my throat, warming my stomach.

Lizzie was looking intently at me. She then beamed at me and informed, "We're going to Cambridge tomorrow, all of us, me, Frank, papa and mama and this time it'll be a proper vacation. Papa has promised to put his work aside and show us around."

"Oh that's great, where will you be staying?"

"The eastern side, it'll be somewhere near the port." Frank replied for Lizzie.

"A new location?" I asked.

"Yes, papa bought a nice, new slice of real estate. It's simply wonderful and the sea breeze in the mornings is so cooling and refreshing."

I nodded my head in full knowledge, next to literature; I also loved geography and wished that I could study it in full detail.

"Will you be going to see the University of Cambridge?"

"That and St Bene't's Church."Frank said.

"Don't forget the School of Pythagoras too" added Lizzie.

"Yes and that too, but my guess is that it might turn out to be boring, there might not even be anything in there, it'll only be a collection of faux notebooks and pens and inkwells."

"Well you wait and see, you haven't even gone there and you're already drawing up assumptions." I said.

Frank gave me a sly grin. Syd harrumphed to draw notice to the fact he was being left out of the rich topic of travels and foreign, exotic places, all of which he felt at a loss for words. Lizzie comfortingly patted his hand.

"Hey did you hear that Randall is imprisoned in a factory?" I broke out the news suddenly.

Frank spat out his tea and quickly patted himself dry with a napkin as the hot tea oozed down into the folds of pants. Lizzie's eyes grew big with concern while one eye of hers was signalling for a maid to clean up the impromptu mess.

"What?"

Syd frowned, sternly at me. Lizzie and Frank were waiting for an answer.

"Well...I...uh...I mean, Randall had bet a factory owner some nights ago at the Jolly Boatman, he wagered the owner that he didn't know how to land a dice in a glass with its side five upfront, three times in a row."

Frank looked horrified, even though he didn't know Randall, he was concerned, which showed his caring nature.

"But the owner was already familiarized with the same trick, Randall lost of course, and the bet has now landed him in a hot spot; to work in a factory for two years." I continued.

Lizzie shook her head sympathetically and clucked her tongue.

"Don't feel sorry for him, he deserved it, it was his own fault to wager such invaluable a thing such as his freedom."

"Well, there has to be a way to get him out of that horrible place, has he already started working, is he trapped there?" Lizzie asked fearfully.

"Well right now, he is, but don't worry, we'll soon free him."

Syd's frown had still not subsided and it was slowly turning into a glare.

"How can you free him?" Frank asked. He studied my vague countenance. "Billy?" he asked after a while. "You're seeking help from him? Out of all the preposterous people in the world you chose him?" Frank looked sick right now.

"First of all, Billy is the only preposterous cutthroat I know and also, I didn't choose him, he searched us out."

"You think this is such a joke, don't you Cat?" Syd broke out from his long silence. He sounded furious now. I shrugged. I couldn't believe that he was actually angry at me, Randall had got himself in this mess, not us. I could feel my rage also boiling up.

"Well you also seem to be okay with this plan, your shrewdness seems to be decreasing, hasn't it ever occurred to you that Billy might be paid by someone to take us out." I spat with matching levity.

"Yes, I know that I am protected by your gang," I continued, "but Billy's men outnumber us; his gang is expanding and if a battle should strike, we would lose. It doesn't look like Billy needs to keep up to his promise of surrendering himself into your hands, when they will be no one to surrender to." I said, all in one breath.

I knew that the latter part of my statement was completely untrue; the only law Billy abode to was, was the law of the streets, but still, with his keeping silent on how he could possibly profit from this mission of help, it was bound to raise suspicion, the only possibility was that his benefactor was a murderer who wanted to kill us and this was one way of luring us in his den, blinded with concern. I didn't know who it could possibly be, but with Billy, you could take no second chances. Syd was so frustrated that he took to striding in the outside garden.

Lizzie motioned me to go sort the matter out with him now or there would arise even more complexities due to miscommunication and growing gap of time. I took her advice and ran to the garden.

I found him between the rose blossoms.

"Syd, I am sorry for my little outburst back in the veranda, I didn't mean to hurt you. But all I'm trying to say is that we don't need Billy anymore, you've already visited the factory, you know where Randall is, and together we could conjure up a much safer plan that doesn't involve Billy. Why can't you see the possibility of an alternative? Take me to the factory; I am sure I can influence the guards for a little visit to the factory with a performance. I am sure none of them have ever attended one and they wouldn't turn down this chance, especially if it's free. And even if that doesn't work out, I can slip in the factory through some small window or hole; I am pretty small after all. Once I am in, I can let in the rest of you and all of us can free Randall."

I looked at him pleadingly; I was trying within all of my willpower to rid him of this ridiculous idea. But something told me that he still remained skeptical.

"Seems you've already conjured up a plan" he gave me a watery smile. "But just one thin' Cat, 'ow do you expect to let us all in with the guards standing ground right there?"

"Well then you can beat them up, and this is just plan B, we'll put it into action only if the performance doesn't work out, which I doubt, and if it doesn't then we move in with force."

Syd looked at me with respect and fondness and engulfed me in a hug, resting his chin on my head. He then held me at arm's length and spoke "It ain't that simple, factories are like a maze, you could get lost in 'em and if discovered by supervisors, you'd be forced to work. Besides, the smoke is poisonous; the last thing I want is, it messing up your lungs." He shuddered at the thought.

He was right, I've never been in a factory before, it would take me time to figure my around and there were also the supervisors to worry about. I decided I wouldn't put something such as my freedom in order to rescue Randall; that would be something I wouldn't be willing to sacrifice.

"So we're going staunch with Billy then?" I asked, tired with all possibilities being crushed and thrown down. He nodded his head.

"Besides" he said "we don't 'ave a choice, it's Randall who's 'elpless not us. We 'ave to help 'im, there's a man down, and being a member of the Butcher's Boys, we 'ave to show our loyalty to 'im."

"I just wish he could've picked out a better situation in which we could showcase our faith to him." I said bitterly. Deep down, I was as less keen about this plan than Syd was.

"Don't fret, it'll all be over in a twinkle of an eye." He reassured me. And with amenities restored, we returned back to the veranda. No one was there except two maids who were clearing the table.

"Where are Frank and Lizzie?" asked Syd.

"They're inside, sir." said the maid, pointing to the house.

"Thank you, ma'am." Syd bowed politely and departed. I followed.

Lizzie was reading when we entered the living room, she put down her book when she saw us coming in.

"Everything's sorted out? I am sorry for the abrupt end of us having tea, but we figured you might take a while and that you needed privacy, so we finished ours and quickly cleared out. I can call in for a second cup if you'd like."

I shook my head.

"No I think that it's time for us to leave now. We'll come tomorrow to see you when you'll leave for Cambridge."

"Are you sure you want to leave just yet? It's awfully hot at the moment."

"Yes, we've already spent quite a lot of time, I am sorry for the little argument though, at tea."

"Not at all, it was rather a bit of fun and juicy gossip; normally tea is always so boring; too formal for my taste." She said with a twinkle of fun in her eyes. "Frank's upstairs, bid him goodbye if you truly are going now."

"We are." I said shortly.

"So Cat, 'ave you managed to lend a thought about that competition? You've got just a couple of weeks" Syd was really anxious of making something off of my future, making sure that I would be able to stand up on my were walking along the side of the road, with the yellow hay sticking out of the fields.

"I did" I replied. "I am writing a new story just for it." I paused for a moment.

"Have you planned out a schedule for your boxing and working at the butchery? If you've to make it as a successful boxer, you have to have some sort of clear plan in your head, without it, your boxing in all could turn out to be a flop." I advised. He guffawed, knowing exactly what I had truly meant.

"No, I 'aven't, I don't need one you little squirt. I'll box whenever and whomever I like."

"Well I guess that's how boxing works, be reckless, ruthless and let whatever's supposed to happen, happen."

He guffawed again. "You don't even know two pins about boxin', you can't teach me anythink."

"Maybe." I shrugged. Syd ruffled my red curls were walking by a bare stretch of land, with nothing in it other than mud and all insects that lived and bred in mud. But that didn't mean the land was of no use. About a hundred yards away, were Syd's lads playing a game of curling."

For those of you who aren't familiar with curling, it's a game where two teams of four players take turns to slide a stone on ice to a circular target. Now this may sound easy, but it takes a lot of skill to make sure the stones stop inside the target especially since players can knock their opponent's stones out of the way too. The same was being played there in the field but instead of ice, it was mud on which the stones were half sliding, half flying through the air.

One of the lads spotted Syd and told him to join the game but Syd refused.

"Can't 'ave my shirt spoiled with the mud, these are my best clothes." He explained. I agreed. Both of us sat down on the coarse grass and watched the game.

The game was certainly entertaining to watch, it was much more fun than games played by the higher society with their polished manners, rules and decency. Down here, it was every man for himself with quite a lot of manhandling and rough play. Rules didn't apply and cheating was done around the clock. Everyone cheered with astounding zest and gusto when their team won, and when they lost, the disappointed fans cursed with all the ease of a sailor.

There was a new round in the match, since the game was played on mud, there were no brooms and the existing rules had to be re-written. The stones could be thrown but only at a maximum height of two feet above the ground. Curlers were to run about 11 yards to gain momentum and strength in order to throw the heavy stone. The opposing team could steal the stone and the other had to protect the throw. On one side were Tommy, Hanson, and Johnny with Jim as their leader and on the other side were Eleanor, Jason and Harley with Shift, their leader.

Jim's team started out first, Johnny started running, his bare feet gripping the mud so he would be flung away with the stone when it would be thrown. The throw was fairly neat almost landing near the center of the circle which was demarcated by sticks and a lot of footsteps.

Shift quickly analysed the path through which the stone was flying and ran towards the landing, within seconds, he had the stone passed on to Harley. Jason, who was standing ground near the circle, intervened and pushed the stone farther away. Every two seconds there did always someone, intervening, want to score a goal, even if that meant manhandling their own team mates.

The same crazy charade repeated over and over with different curlers. But the struggle to get the stone in the middle of the circle kept anyone who was watching, cheer and shout out and anyone who was passing by, stop and watch. One of the boys created a diversion for the opposing team and managed to get two of the curlers engaged in a fight. This bought Johnny some time to pass the stone upfront to Hanson who then threw it into the middle of the now empty circle.

I jumped and screamed, Syd whistled, signalling the game ended with Jim's team winning. Shift cursed and kicked the ground, sending mud flying on Johnny's face, but Johnny was too excited to notice. Tommy and Hanson hoisted Johnny on their shoulders and started singing their own songs of victory. Jim later joined in to share the weight of Johnny, while Shift was arguing with Jason and Eleanor highlighting everything that went wrong and their stupid mistake of falling for the silly trap,

me and Syd walked over to the middle of the field, only after we made sure that no mud flicking would occur. Syd thumped Johnny on the back and congratulated Shift saying that he put up a good fight. After the excitement wore off, all of the players suddenly slumped down on the muddy ground, realizing how out of breath they were.

When Johnny managed to finally catch his breath, he looked at me and said,

"Hey Cat, you ready for the quest, on Saturday _, under Billy_." He was trying to scare me, he always tried to scare people, usually I took it in good sport, but other times his tall tales were too much for me to handle.

"Yes." I replied calmly. He let out a malicious snicker.

"You sure? Well you better hurry up because sh-"

He couldn't complete his sentence as a coach driven by two brown horses was passing by. Its passenger, a man of about twenty five, was screaming something in different languages. Even though I couldn't understand what he said, I could comprehend that it was something happy due to the high pitched noise circling around in his throat. When he spotted us, he jumped down the coach, making his way towards us. It was then that I noticed what a short man he was, and I also spotted that he wasn't the only person in the carriage, there were two other men, but their faces were blurry being too far away. I couldn't make out who they possibly could be.

"Progression with industrialization." The little man half screamed, half sang.

Spotting a reaction on our faces, he realized that we spoke English. But he still wanted to confirm.

"Do you speak English?" He asked.

"Yes we do, what's all this screaming about?" I returned, with my question.

"Well don't you know? Everything's going to change now."

"How?" I asked, though I already knew the answer, but I spoke by default as the words just slipped out of my mouth without thinking.

"Haven't you heard about the industrial age? What do you think the factories are for? This is the age where manufacturing transforms; you see, with the invention of man-powered machines, everything will become faster and cheaper."

He straightened his posture and took a deep breath; I could tell that whatever he was going to say next was well rehearsed for.

"We are doing so well with the slave trade, but we can utilize this opportunity even better. Key technologies such as James Watt's steam engine was developed using profits from slave trading merchants. And in turn, when the steam machine was fully developed, it was the sugar plantation owners who used these steam machines to increase efficiency, thus replacing horses. Uncanny, ain't it? But still, it's the best mutual beneficial relationship two businessmen could ask for. My name's Jeffrey by the way."

"Pleased to meet you. My name's Catherine."

"We're collecting signatures for the cause, promote factory made products and limit the usage of handmade goods. You see those handmade goods are that expensive." He informed, emphasizing on the word that.

"So..." he held out a paper and well inked quill, gesturing for us to sign. But I had other ideas.

"Do you think I support the cause of buying goods made from the blood of the backs of slave workers?" I thundered.

Syd tensed. I could see that Jeffrey was slightly annoyed.

"Those goods are produced by factories." He said slowly.

"Operated by slaves!" Syd completed.

"Look, there's a reason why things like this happened. The whole purpose of history is to learn from mistakes made by our ancestors and I'll tell you something, we'd be a mighty big fool if we didn't take advantage of this situation. Don't you see? The more inventions there are, the more beneficial it is for both the parties, the inventors, the merchants and well – you!"

"You can shove that paper in your mouth." said Syd

Jeffrey was agitated that all his efforts were in vain.

"Get out of my sight!" boomed Jeffrey. "Here," he shoved the paper in Jason's hand, "You sign it." He said impatiently.

"I don't think that's happening, none of us can read or write." Jason reasoned.

"Well I can, but you'll never get my support for this outrage." I informed him

Jeffrey's face beamed bright red. "Of course, you're just a bunch a worthless uneducated nitwits, why did I waste my time?" With that he turned to go, mainly to avoid getting pummeled by Syd. When a safe distance away, he stopped in his tracks, probably at the thought there was still a chance of one of us changing our minds, namely me due to the fact that I was literate.

"Here," he fished in his briefcase, "have this." He handed me a thin, yellow paper with small, black print, enclosed in a simple black border with simple triangle designs at the corners.. I could see that it was a pamphlet, done similarly in the style of the same pamphlets I had handed out to people in the street for the play.

"If you change your mind about the cause, you know where you can contact us."

"Don't even bother wasting your breath." This voice belonged to someone very familiar to me. He continued, "You can't change 'er mind, it's as thick as whale fat."

I looked up from the pamphlet and so did the rest of us, and standing there near the coach was Billy.

I could see that he was dressed finely, with a black suit and light blue cravat. His black shoes were polished and his hair was neatly slicked back, but his teeth were still as rotten as ever. He strode down to us but stopped when he saw the soft looking mud and the dangers of his shiny shoes sinking in it.

"And your brain is as thick and hard as a wood plank." I retorted. He chuckled.

"'ello Cat, I've missed your silver tongue."

"What are you doing here Billy? Get out." It was Johnny.

"What are you going to do? Kill me? Well you can't, because I am of 'igher social standin' than you are." Billy said haughtily, "and even if I wasn't, I'd like to see you get your hands on me."

All of us laughed at the absurdity of Billy masquerading as a gentleman.

"You, a gentleman? Just because you've thrown on a suit and a pair of polished shoes, doesn't mean you've magically transformed into a gentleman. You still have the soul of a pig, your teeth are still rotten and your nails look like they've scraping dung out of a backyard." I retaliated.

Everyone laughed at this joke, but Billy didn't, still, he didn't look in the least agitated, in fact he looked calm, very calm.

"Well is that why I'm travellin' with one of the richest men in all of London?" he asked. He then turned around and called out, "Richmond, come down will ya?"

An old man of about sixty, stepped down from the coach, from far he looked similar to a grandfather that read their grandchildren bedtime stories and loved to fix useless, outdated devices. But as he approached us, his sharp eyes pierced everyone they met, deep and painful. He had white hair and prominent dark bags under his eyes, which were protected by shaggy eyebrows that were greying. This man...Richmond, had only taken a few steps, but then quickly ascended back up, probably when he saw what type of an audience his man, Jeffrey, was entertaining.

"I think I'm fine, why don't you come back inside and we'll continue our business dealings?" he suggested.

"See, the old rookie loves me. I'm...made out of the same finer stuff that 'e is made out of too." He grinned. "Until next time, see you on Saturday."

All three of them, got back into the carriage, shut the door, cracked the whip and made a move on.

I watched Billy out of the corner of my eye very lazily through the little wood paned window. Under the window I noticed were some scrawled letters, I turned completely to my right to get a better view of what was written. In gold, cursive letters was written the name Richmond W. Ellis.

I ran to the road and watched the carriage disappear into the distance. I could hear Syd's lad making fun of Billy's last comment, imitating his rich, fake accent. Syd rejoined me after bidding the lads, grinning.

"Billy's trying too 'ard to be a proper gentleman, I'd love to see the end result." He chuckled.

"I don't think any elocution classes could change the way he speaks, acts or thinks, he'll always have the soul of a pig inside, a dirty, old pig." I spat.

"Right you are Cat, right you are." Syd agreed.

I took the pamphlet which Jeffrey had given me. I folded it and stashed it in my coat's pocket, having a mind to read it later. What really worried me, was the industrial revolution, how many people would it affect, would people now become unemployed, how many people wanted change? Richmond W. Ellis, that name got stuck in my head, and what could Billy possibly be doing in his carriage?


	4. Chapter 3- Change in plans

"No no no, Bill! How many times do I have to tell you that you come in from the other side of the stage, coming from this end you've already discovered Patricia, you have to come in from the other end, call out to her and when she doesn't reply, you get suspicious and search for her. You exit the building and find her half dead on the side of the road. If you come in from this end, the whole suspense that the story develops is ruined, you hear me? I will make you rehearse your part twenty more times if you make the same mistake do you understand?!" It was Mr. Truski shouting out the actor's mistakes in the rehearsal.

I was in the wardrobe room, sleeping on the couch when I heard all the screaming .I threw myself to the ground, staggered across the floor, half sleepily and took out the silver lined pocket watch from Mrs. Reid's jacket's pocket. I flipped it open and checked the time, it was five in the morning and Mr. Truski was well into the start of the day, pulling actors from their beds and making them slog. I growled as I knew I had to wake up, even though my duties didn't start yet. It wouldn't make a good impression on anyone who walked in and saw me sleeping. I refreshed myself and let the cold water erase the sleep out of my eyes.

I descended to the ground floor and ducked behind the red velvet curtain as Mr. Truski walked by. I wasn't ready just yet to report to work. But I was either too slow or Mr. Truski had eyes like that of an eagle as he spotted me.

"Luke! I saw you, come out young man." He bellowed.

Luke was the maintenance boy, who was slightly older than me, but he didn't live in the theatre, he had his own little house at the end of Drury Lane. I snorted, his eyesight probably wasn't that good then, for such a silly mistake. But he already knew that there was someone hiding behind the curtain; I had to come out. I slowly emerged out and showed my face.

"Catherine! Where the bloody hell have you been." I couldn't believe what I heard, it was only five and the man had already started the daily routine of screaming his lungs out at us and finding mistakes. This proved to be the last straw for me.

"I was sleeping sir, as I'm sure anyone would in the whole of London if you hadn't just been screaming like an unsatisfied five year old child."

Bill, who was also tired of his screaming, smirked. Of course, Mr. Truski wasn't taking any of this.

"How dare you speak to a respectable man of higher standing like that, you little vermin." He spat.

"I don't know about the respectable part, sir, but whatever I said was true. Anyone here can tell you the same." I retorted in a polite but rather cutting voice.

"Enough you little vermin, report to work, you can start out by cleaning the backstage floors, I want everything polished."

He was now exerting power that he didn't even own, if Mr. Sheridan saw this, he would immediately kick him out. But he was out of town. I was going to protest and tell him where he could go, but I stopped. I thought that protesting would be a form of acknowledgement of his punishment. Instead I chose to take it all in good sport, whistling as I went to get the cleaning supplies. He was annoyed to see my indifferent attitude towards him, so he added,

"And the fly systems...make sure you clean that out as well, I'll be coming around to check it in an hour's time."

This time I really told him where he could go and as soon as I said that, i made a dash for it. I quickly risked a glance behind my shoulder and saw that Mr. Truski was dumbfounded, his mouth agape. This was probably the first time that someone got the final say in an argument indulging him.

I dug out the cleaning supplies and headed backstage to the crossover by the wings. I loved the crossover as it was the only part of the theater that always managed to have some light,even if the sun went down and the air was always fresh. Plus, it was the farthest part of the theater, an excellent place to escape the maladies of theater life. I tied my skirts and knelt down.

After two hours of hard work, I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, exhausted. I looked over and was satisfied, the whole crossover was well cleaned. I could hear the birds chirping outside. I got up and took my bucket outside for a refill of water. Halfway while the water was bubbling in the bucket, I suddenly remembered that Frank and Lizzie were leaving for Cambridge today. In a haste, I quickly put off the hose. I ran out of the back yard, but as soon as I took a quick glance at my dress. I groaned Frank and Lizzie would kill me for being late, but I couldn't arrive dressed shabbily. I ran back towards the theater, up the stairs while bumping into a number of staff members along the way, including Mrs. Reid.

"Oops! Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you."

"My! Slow down child, you'll kill someone at the rate you're going."

But I couldn't slow down, I burst into the wardrobe room and ripped my wet clothes off. As soon I was in a pair of dry, clean clothes, I set out again.

"Cat, we thought you'd never show up." Frank spoke. His whole family, including himself was waiting outside. The duchess was sitting inside a white coach, harnessed to three beautiful thoroughbreds . When she saw me she got down and hugged me tight, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I'd come to see you off...I was just...uh...caught up with some work."

I hugged Frank and Lizzie goodbye.

"Do you have any idea how late you are? We were going to ride off without saying goodbye, but I persuaded papa to wait a little longer." Lizzie whispered in my ear as she hugged me tightly.

"I know, I know." I whispered back impatiently.

"Take care Cat and for God sake, don't get into anymore trouble alright? It's bad enough that you've to trust Billy." Frank said, he was standing at Lizzie's shoulder, towering over her, even though he was the younger one.

"I will, now off you two go, have fun." I smiled.

The duchess gave me one last hug and said, "Goodbye Catherine, look after yourself and keep warm, the winter season is arriving and a lot of people are catching colds."

"Don't worry, I'll try not to catch theirs." I smiled.

She took my hand and squeezed it, her pale, powdered cheeks frosting, due to the chilly morning air that was blowing. I didn't mind the wind, in fact I loved it, summer was annoying, with that yellow sun shining down my face.

After I bid goodbye to the whole Avon family, I waved my neckerchief as their carriage rode off for the port.

I sighed as their carriage grew tiny. I knew that I would never be able to satisfy my growing lust to share the pleasures of discovering new places or the thrill of new experiences. My bones were made out of the dust of this town and I had never been anywhere else other than some other few tiny neighboring villages. The only possibility of my being somewhere far and distant would probably be when I was a toddler no more than two years old.

Mr. Sheridan is still not sure of my age as I could've been abandoned at the steps of the theater at one or two years old, it was pretty hard to tell. During my train of thought, as I was passing by the baker's I saw someone with brown hair and freckles on his neck, he looked like he was bargaining with the baker. Seeing this, he reminded of Randall and I chuckled. Long after I had walked a couple of yards, I could still hear the boisterous chatter over the loaf of bread. This boy could might as well be Randall's brother or step – brother as both of them enjoyed the company of food.

Perhaps it could be a good thing, that he belonged somewhere and had an identity. A family.

As I walked back home, I could see many posters flailing about on shop windows, as if they were trying their best to draw attention, but there was no need to, as people gathered around it and the literate ones read aloud for the benefit of the ones who couldn't read.

People stood on chairs, while their onlookers listened with rapt attention. Something was different about the Sparrow's Nest. It was natural that the theater arena was a gossip site for town folk, but now it felt that the gossip had a type of grim factor and it dulled anyone who heard it. Some people were clearly not happy, I could picture them in my mind, leading future protests and movements and organizing them. The winds of change were truly blowing with the comebacks of this revolution.

I opened the small gate that stood in front of the narrow, forsaken road to Drury Lane. This road has been filled with foliage ever since I can remember and no one bothered to clear it out, mainly because it was the least developed road and was always broken patch of dry mud, but now the leaves had withered and fallen onto to the white, snow covered ground, leaving the dry branches flailing mid-air, obstructing my way. But it was still practical, as it was a shortcut from the Avon's house to the theater. I entered the crossover (part of it is outside the theater) and found that it was still in perfect condition, spic and span, just as I had left it, with no mud marks to dirty it.

But that was not what surprised me, standing near a little brown cupboard, which had been slightly worn off by the weather, was Mr. Truski, smiling. Out of all his countenances, this one was his rarest.

When he saw me, his smile didn't vanish, but broadened even further.

"Nice job, Miss Royal. I have never seen such outstanding work... that is...cleaning – wise, and a crossover that too, maids never bother to clean one if it's not a part of the theater."

"Thank you." I said, ignoring the maid part.

"Tell you what, since you did such a good job, here's a pound." He dug deep in his pocket and pulled out a fat coin. He held it up towards the light, as if he might be inspecting it and then pressed it into my hand. The cool metal soothed the emptiness of my palm. I couldn't believe it, charity and kindness were the last two values I'd use to describe Mr. Truski. But this little act showed me how many layers of innocent wonders that man could possibly possess.

I looked at the coin, still not believing it was a pound.

"Tha- thank you" I stammered.

"Say, are you going anywhere tonight?"

His question hit me in the face like a block of wood. Was he acting like a father figure for me? If so, I never thought that he could be that considerate about me.

"No sir, I'm not. Why do you ask?"

"Oh I was just wondering, I don't want you to go out during the night time, it gets frightfully cold and there could be a possibility of getting a bad fever. You know, it's the season for it." He advised.

"Yes sir, it is and there would be no cure for anyone catching pneumonia or hypothermia, better take precautions."

"Yes." He sounded bored now that the conversation was being carried on far more than he'd expected it to be and the temporary father figure soon started to wear off. I could now see that he was smiling with only his mouth and not his eyes.

"Well" he continued "I think that I best be on my way." And with that he started to quickly make his way to the door that led to the Green Room.

But there was something fishy about his behavior and I couldn't resist getting my thumb on it.

"Wait just a moment sir, before you leave, can I ask you one thing."

He hesitated for a moment and switched to looking at the little shutter. He seemed to be afraid of where the conversation would lead.

"Sure." He shrugged and tried to act nonchalant.

I paused for a moment and tried to think of the best question to ask him first.

"Were you waiting just for me?"

"Yes Catherine, I was."

I wanted to ask him why he did so and why was he waiting for me here, did he want to tell me something else, but I just summarized my questions in a nod and gesturing at the same time that that was all I wanted to ask him. He winked and left the room, banging the door behind him. Not a graceful manner in which one would exit a room, especially in the presence of a lady and the fact that he had previously referred to himself as a gentleman.

I tried not to give the meeting too much thought as I lay contently on the hard floor. With me, I had my manuscripts and was working on a tough scene where one of my characters was going through a tough time in her life. It felt wonderful to put myself in someone else's boots and write for hours about emotions that I didn't even experience and notions that weren't technically mine. I was munching on a small piece of bread and cheese that I bought with my pound. I had a couple of shillings left.

I fell asleep with my manuscripts and inkwell a few feet beside me. There was nothing to cover me except little shreds of silk and linen.

I dosed off, dreaming about princesses and castles, having the pleasures that royalty had to offer; being waited on, hand and foot. Their dresses were long and voluminous, catching the eye of anyone who saw it. My dream shifted off to a more reposeful state, to nature and I dreamed of unicorns with their delicate wings and their intriguing horn that protruded out of their forehead. I dreamed about the mythical creatures galloping in lush meadows of green. Their hooves gently prodding the ground as they left the past behind them and ran like the wind.

Clippity-clop, Clippity-clop, Clippity-clop.

Then suddenly I felt a disturbance in my dream.

"Cat, Cat wake up, we gotta go. Wake up Cat."The voice was familiar and it had an urgent ringtone to it. "Wake up Cat." The voice was now louder and more distinguished. I opened my eyes, still half asleep and took a proper look at the person.

The clippity-clop turned out to be Syd knocking at my window. I got up and opened the window.

"Syd! What are you doing he-"

"Shh! Keep quiet." He urged me. "Pack up your things Cat, we don't have much time, we have to move fast."

I was still gaining consciousness and was not aware of the situation.

"What happened? Where are we going and why so early?" I complained.

"I'll explain later but first come." He went over to my sewing bag and began to pack my things. When he started packing my manuscripts, I was alerted.

"Woah, wherever we are heading off to, are we staying there permanently?"

"No, we're not, but can you help me?" He retreated back for the window, stuck out his head and whispered something that I couldn't hear.

"Someone's waiting outside?" I asked.

"Yes, me lads."

"Okay, I'm ready, let's go."

I took out my manuscripts and placed them back in the trunk. I checked my pockets for the shillings, it was there. Syd frowned when he saw my light luggage.

"Do you have anything warmer than this?" He pointed out to my cloak which was a little holed out. I shook my head.

"Come on Cat, are you tellin' me that Sheridan doesn't spend a dime on some decent, warm clothes for you?"

I snorted at his stupid question; Mr. Sheridan's behavior towards me was very peculiar. He treated me like a half servant and half pet and most of the time he would pretend that I didn't even exist. Even though he took me in when I was a babe, it didn't mean that he accepted responsibility as a full-time parent. He was my apprentice and nothing more.

"Syd, do you see him spending his money on food for me? Sure he invites me to parties and dinners, but that's only in celebration when the staff has _thrown_ a party after a successful play."

He sighed, knowing I was right.

"Well come on then."

"Right" I nodded my head and made my way for the window, but I was surprised when Syd set out in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going? Do you plan on exiting the theater by the main entrance?" I asked.

"'Course not, you daft Kitten, I'm lookin' for some warm clothes, can't 'ave you shiverin' in the cold, when we're on a mission."

It now occurred to me where we going.

"Ra- Randall, I'm waking up this early for him?" I stammered in anger.

"Well I already told you this, well in advance. I don't see the reason why you're gettin' this upset."

I groaned, I made up my mind that as soon as I saved him, I'd kill him.

"Now where is the room where they keep the costumes?"

"Well Mrs. Reid keeps the cloth in my room and the costumes in the cupboard in the Green Room."

"Let's go then."

Catching the tail end of his idea, my eyes grew big.

"Syd, you're not actually going there to "borrow", are you?"

"I am." He grinned. I shook my head, I couldn't believe what he was doing.

My blood was racing through my veins, there was no changing Syd's mind, if anyone found us out, they'd be sure to send word to Mr. Sheridan who'd kick me out of the theater if he thought that I was a thief.

We were already halfway across the stage and were making our way backstage. It was pitch black and neither of us had a lantern.

"Is there a fireplace, I have a matchbox."

"Yeah, it's at the end of the room, I lead him around the room, feeling my way for any obstructing furniture."

Once there I asked him for the matchbox, knowing my intentions, he shook his head.

"No, we can't light the fireplace, if anyone walked in on us, we'd be caught."

It took us some time to find a good piece of wood that wasn't charred, we managed to find one at last and lit it up. The whole room suddenly changed and it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the vast contrast of the brightness.

"Okay, let's see what we have here..."

He fished through the shelves of the cupboards until he found an old bear suit that even I couldn't remember when it was previously worn.

"Syd, don't" I hissed, "we'll get in trouble, especially me." I pleaded.

"Don't worry Kitten, no one'll notice it's gone, look-" he pointed to the costume, "see 'ow old it is, can you see its scratches? Ove'all it's very small, you can even fit it in your sewing bag." he comforted.

I inspected it and then saw the cupboard it was put in. (Mrs. Reid labeled each cupboard, being the meticulous, particular person she is) It read "Useful Backup Costumes". I was mortified; I pointed it out to Syd. Syd took one look at the label and shrugged. I was overwhelmed, how he could be so bold as to not care about me getting kicked into the streets. And then it hit me, how could I forget? Syd couldn't read or write, none of his boys could.

"Syd, this costume is a backup one." I pointed to the label.

He sighed, he was already at the door when I had informed him, he quickly retreated back and thought for a second.

"What does this one say?" he pointed to the cupboard behind me.

I turned around and tried to read it what it said, as most of the letters had faded out. As I was trying to decipher what it said, a voice boomed from outside the room

"Hey! What are you two doing down here?" I immediately realized it was Mr. Kemble. He didn't see our faces, we still had a chance to make a dash for it. Acting quickly, Syd exchanged the labels of the cupboards, grabbed my hand and the suit and ran. In the blurred events that followed, I could see that a mischievous grin circled his face.

I just hoped that the cupboard behind me contained old costumes; it had to, as the label was old. Maybe Syd's rash decision was a little wise after all.

Mr. Kemble was hot on our chase, but Syd had the youth of a colt, he practically lifted me off the ground with every second of increasing speed. We exited the theater and found Syd's boys waiting for us.

"What took you so long?" I couldn't see anyone, my eyes clouding with a little fatigue that still prevailed and the darkness, but I could make out that the voice belonged to Johnny.

"There's no time, we have to run." I said. "Kemble found us out in the Green Room and he might alert someone."

The sun was now starting to shine as dawn broke out. For the first time, I could see everyone clearly. Syd had assembled six of his boys, the most loyal ones, I could see, as they were the most frequent visitors and I knew almost everyone of them.

We started making our way out and exited Grosvenor Square. I prayed that Mr. Kemble had the sense to retreat back to his bed and delay the little invasion until morning.

I was already out of breath when we reached the main road. Syd frowned when he saw me panting.

"Come on Cat, we 'ave to make it at least to the cross section without being spotted by Billy."

His despair bemused me. "Billy? You're running away from him? Why?"

Syd didn't answer any of my questions but scooped me up and placed me on his shoulders.

"Right boys, let's continue."

I can't tell how long we ran, but I could feel the sun burning my skin as it now began to shine dauntlessly, increasing the number of freckles on my face. I dosed off again, trying to make myself as comfortable as possible. I could hear the morning getting busier as time grew. We were probably progressing near the market side as it became very noisy and the atmosphere was very unordered. We quickly passed the market and retired at the back of a hedge.

Syd lowered me onto the ground and slumped down beside me, panting. His heart beating like a pistol. I was still tired, but curiosity got the better of me and I opened my eyes to see where we had reached, I peeped over the hedge and observed my surroundings.

The atmosphere was definitely different from that of home, it was peculiar, but I knew this place, probably not so well since I had been here only once before. I didn't know the name of the street, but I did know that it was around seven blocks away from Westminster Bridge.

"How much further?" I asked.

"We 'ave a lot more distance to cover. We won't be able to finish it all in one day."

This really bugged me; I had hoped that Syd had packed some food for the long journey.

"Do you have any food?" I asked, my stomach growling for it.

Syd nodded to James, who had packed the food, sandwiches, though there wasn't enough for everyone. As soon as it was over, I got up and was about to make my way to the market when James asked me, "Where are you going?"

"To the market." I replied. "I'll be back soon, it isn't that far away."

I took a few steps and stopped in my tracks, I turned around as I remembered something.

"Why are the markets open now, at this time on a Saturday?"

"That's cos, it's not a Saturday, it's Friday."

"We set out a day early?"

"Yes" he confirmed.

So we weren't going staunch with Billy, I was mad that Syd hadn't informed me of this change of plan before.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" this time my question was directed to Syd.

"There was no time, Cat."

Right then, a sword, yes, a sword, came flying through the air and landed right above my head and balanced its sharp lean end onto some twisted twigs, of which I thanked my lucky stars, existed. The owner of the sword suddenly emerged from his hiding spot.

"Traitor!" Billy said. "Right as 'ell that there wasn't any time, wot with you leaving so early and not telling me, I didn't 'ave any time to pack my bags for the journey."

Billy had been following us the entire journey and none of us knew it.

I suddenly remembered the peculiar behavior of Mr. Truski and his question _are you going anywhere tonight._ My mind clouded with anger as I realized that Billy must've visited the theater when I had gone to the Avons.

Mr. Truski was probably waiting on the account of Billy's orders. Heck, Billy must've also paid him to wait there. But why did Mr. Truski give me that pound, was it out of generosity or did Billy tell him to pay me. I then realized that Billy had known all along, even before Syd could change his mind about sticking with Billy, he knew that Syd would back out and save Randall without his help. That's why Mr. Truski had asked me that question, Billy wanted to confirm our early mission.

"I thot we understood each other, no double-crossing, that's wot I hate and I think I'll have to deal with that, in my _own_ way." Billy stated, interrupting my thoughts.

Suddenly, the rest of his gang appeared, there were about ten. There was no way we'd win this match, especially since they were armed.

The sun now disappeared back behind the clouds, as if deciding that it didn't want to witness the ugly scene.

Billy continued "You know, if there's one thing I hate, it's people cheating, cheating and lying."

"That's rich coming from you" spat Syd.

Another knife, this time it landed above Syd's head. Billy took out another blade, this time- a dagger, instead of throwing it, he picked his nails clean. He sat on a rock, legs crossed and completely relaxed. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, thoroughly enjoying the unspoken power as the ball was now in his court.

"Quiet, I could do with some peace. You see, you set off so early that you didn't give me time to plan wot I'd do, so we followed you."

"And wot a round we've led you on, eh? Come on Billy, what d'you want?" asked Syd wearily.

"Justice"

He smiled as if he was indirectly saying he knew the shortest path to it.

"Would you consider compensation?" Johnny asked.

I was curious to know what this compensation was, the only one Billy would accept was money and the other term was that there was a lot of it.

"Yes, I'll consider it, but I'm afraid that my choice is very limited."

"What is it?"

"Death"

Billy seemed to be enjoying this one word game and the effect it had on us.

"Sorry Billy, but you'll have to move out of our way, I've a friend to save." Syd growled.

"Well, well she wouldn't be too happy if you were late." He said in mock concern. She? I was confused now. Billy beheld my bemusement and gave a throaty chuckle.

"He hasn't told you, has he?" he asked me and pointed to Syd. "Well, that's good, he was ordered not to."

Syd boiled with fury; he suddenly brandished a butcher's knife with a perilous countenance. He gritted his teeth and let his next two words pass out of his mouth as calm and as smooth as possible.

"Cat, run!"

This alerted me, the fight was getting uglier than I expected it to be, Billy was an experienced knife thrower and his aim was precise and accurate ninety nine percent of the time and on the other hand, Syd was an experienced butcher, it was hard to tell who would win. But I didn't have time to wonder about that as Johnny quickly grabbed my hand and started running towards the street. In a trice I heard Billy order his men, he dispatched two after us. The remaining members on both sides of the gang were left to the indiscreet war. Six against eight, who would win?


	5. Chapter 4- The chase

**CHAPTER 4** – _The chase_

"This way," Johnny directed me. "We'll cross the bridge and give them the slip at the cross-section."

I nodded, glad that we at least had a figured course of action, I glanced back to see who it was that Billy had sent out after us. I heaved a sigh of relief as I saw it was only Narg and another member of whom I didn't know the name of, but I had met him on previous encounters to know this much: he was useless with a knife. His only skill lay in archery but I couldn't see any quiver of arrows or a bow for that matter.

We ran across the street and made our way to the bridge. It was already busy with horse-drawn carriages and the common Londoners. We combed our way through the bridge with Narg and the other fellow swiftly on our track. It was not easy to try and lose them, even though the bridge was fairly crowded, the path was straight and there was no turning a sharp right or left, just completely straight.

The bridge was long and it didn't take long for my breath to get ruffled, I had to stop a couple of times to catch my breath. Johnny spotted a lull in the traffic as soon as we exited the bridge.

He motioned for me to follow him. We made a dash towards a batch of old, forsaken buildings, ducking under open windows, since the gap between opposite constructions was very narrow.

I risked another glance backwards and could see, just in time, that Narg and his mate had overlooked our route and had taken a sharp left that led off in the opposite direction.

"Look," I pointed to Johnny, "we lost them."

"How do you know?"

"I saw them head off in that direction, if they keep on heading that way, they'll get lost and it'll take quite some time for to ricochet and figure out that they're lost."

Johnny looked skeptical, so I continued, "They're quite dumb." I smiled.

He paused to think for a moment, then quickly darted his eyes side to side to see if we were being watched.

"Great, then I'll drop you off here."

My eyes almost popped out of my head when I heard the absurdness of his plan.

"What? You lead me on a wild goose chase? So you lied, there is no 'safe place'."

Johnny smiled, for a moment, I battled in my head whether he intended it to be smug.

"Cat, don't worry, they're gone. Maybe not permanently, but their foolishness has managed to buy you some time. Look you just head two miles west and you'll see an old inn titled _The Good Times._ When you spot that inn, make a sharp left, but make sure you're standin' in front of the inn when you make that left. Take shelter under a tree or somethin', an inn would be nice, but they're costly."

"And I assume you're leaving?" I asked him.

"Yup, I gotta lend a hand to the chums."

I didn't want him to leave, being left in an unknown part of London was scary enough.

"And what am I supposed to do there, once I've settled down?"

"Just stay put, we'll come and get you." He assured.

"Uh-huh, and how long will that be?"

He shrugged, "Can't make any promises. Oh and- here, take this." He pressed some coins in my hand.

I refused it, informing him that I already had money.

"Take it, a little extra money doesn't hurt." He palmed the money in my hand.

He smiled at me warmly. I smiled back, even though most of us were poor and struggled daily to earn our butter and bread, he still was very selfless. We shook hands.

"Stay out of trouble," he advised, "and take care."

"You too."

Before he left, I had to clear my head of my confusion. So I stopped him from departing mid-way.

"Hey Johnny, who are we _really_ trying to save?"

I could see that my question had an impact on him because the next thing he did, was lie.

"Randall, who else?" he smiled nervously.

I nodded my head, knowing that I wouldn't get any more out of him. It wouldn't even benefit me in any way, I had to escape from Narg and his mate, and I could do it with a clear head.

And with that as our last exchange, he turned heel and left. Deep down, I was really scared being alone, even if that meant temporarily. Syd's plan proved to be useless really, usually he was so predictable, my safety was his number one concern, but now I had to travel here for two miles, alone and daunted.

 _Stop it Cat_ I told myself sternly, I quickly shook myself out of my self- pity, at least I had some money, which was now safely in my pocket. Johnny had every right to go back and help his friends who fighting a war. Hopefully it wouldn't turn out to be bloody, and everyone was fine- well not everyone, I hoped that Billy had sustained a few blows. When I had finished this little conversation with myself, I gathered my courage and took in my surroundings and tried to comprehend my exact location, should I get lost and need to come back.

I started walking towards the way Johnny pointed but then changed my pace; if Narg was smarter than I thought and returned back, I wouldn't want to find myself in his company.

I reached the inn, safe and sound. As soon as I spotted _The Good Times_ inn, I made a sharp left; just as Johnny said. Now Reader, before I give a further account of my journey, let me just brief you about the vicinity, it was the saddest looking place I had ever laid eyes on, even the weather seemed to agree, the sun barely made its presence felt and the clouds were depressed...full-time.

The area closely resembled a suburb and it alarmed me to see how far I had travelled. The air was thick with smoke and it looked like the city was bed-ridden with disease, which was probably the reason why there were so many health centres. That was the first thing I saw when I entered the street which was called Square Fac. There were no trees under which I could take shelter. No trees that weren't rotten, that is. Any remaining greenery that did exist in good health was found in pots and little weeds popping out of road cracks.

As you can imagine, this part of the city was very poorly maintained, not just the street, but also the people. All of them carried the burden of being disappointed with life and everything that it had to offer them.

I immediately wanted to turn back and wait for Syd and the others somewhere else but I knew it was a foolish decision; London was so big and I was so small, to search for a lost person would be the equivalent of searching for a needle in a haystack.

I decided to stay put, but there was no way I would want to wait for Syd outside, I'd hide from the ugliness of this street in an inn. I found one that was quite clean and had a hospitable welcome. As soon as I entered, I could breathe again, the air was much fresher than outside and there was even the smell of...pies?

The shop was a little bit too overcrowded, but I could live with that. A scrawny woman with beady eyes like that of a crow approached me. I expected her to kick me out but when she took a closer look at me, and noticed my half starved body, she took pity on me and led me past the door.

"Come, ye urchin." I followed her and she took her place behind a back bar.

"Ye drink?"

I didn't, but I was thirsty and I doubted they had clean water.

"Yes ma'am, some bass ale would be nice."

"Ye can drop the ma'am." she snorted. "Bass ale? That's a fine choice for a lil' urchin like yourself."

"I don't think so..." I paused to think as to what I should address her as.

She smiled when she saw my face. "Ye can call me Margaret."

"Thank you, Margaret."

She looked at me shrewdly, trying to decide where in from London I came, probably because of the polite way of which I spoke.

"Ye come from a rich family?"

"I am an orphan Mi- Margaret, I come from nowhere." That was not the complete truth, but I felt I could trust no one here, until and unless I got to know them first.

"Ah! Ye a vagrant," she stated, "in that case, ye can stay with me, in me inn."

She handed me a bowl of fried turkey wings and legs with some ale to wash it down, and laughed as she watched me devour it.

"No thank you, Margaret; I've not come here to stay, just waiting for my friends, we're going somewhere." I informed, vaguely.

She looked into my eyes and declared, "Then ye lying, ye ain't a vagrant, ye come from a family and ye have a place to stay."

I was annoyed at the fact she kept on stressing that I had a family, I felt like screaming that I was an orphan, but I didn't want to be kicked out just as yet; I hadn't finished my food. And as if my coupon for pity expired, she continued,

"And on that thought, I'll've to charge ye for the ale and the turkey.

"Margaret, believe me when I say this, I _am_ an orphan, God's honest truth."

She squinted and looked into my eyes and asked me, "Wot be ye named?"

"Catherine" I replied.

"A girl!" she shrieked and then quickly drew her hands to her mouth, to not draw attention to us. She dropped her voice by a notch and said, "I thought ye be a boy, wot with all them breeches and short hair."

It was true now that I came to think of it, I did look like a boy, I had to cut my hair for my previous adventure when I had to masquerade as a boy in an all boys boarding school where I was staying with Frank and his friend Charlie, escaping, again, from Billy's men. My hair hadn't grown a lot since then and I was happy that I hadn't changed my breeches as that gave me away as a boy. The only reason why I was allowed in was because I looked like one, so I wasn't surprised when I heard what Margaret had to say next.

"Ye have to leave, if anyone sees ye, a girl and alone, they'll think ye a prostitute." She snatched my bowl and sallied me out the door before anyone else took notice of my presence. I sighed, sick and tired of this, I waited on the wooden staircase of the tavern and wished Syd would come already. My heart refused to believe that he was injured or held captive.

When a few moments passed, I got up; I couldn't just sit here and do nothing, I returned the same way from where I came. It only took two seconds for trouble to call in again as I saw Narg and the other fellow, searching for me.

"Naw Narg, she ain't here, she _can't_ be here, it's a street fulla inns, and she wouldn't be allowed in any one of 'em."

"Shut it Steve, this is the only way where she could possibly end up in, besides, everyone who saw her, said she went in this direction."

I ducked behind an old wall as they made a sharp right, coming towards me, I started sweating, what could I do, and where could I go? I was already kicked out of an inn and I doubted my luck to be mistaken as a boy again if I should try to enter another inn. Unfortunately for me, Steve, Narg's mate, heard me run.

"What was that?" he asked

"What was what?"

"You're the dumbest nitwit I have ever seen, ya know that?"

"Oh yeah, and what does that make you? A genius?" he growled.

"Then listen...I think I heard someone run."

"Where to?" Narg whispered.

"Behind there." He pointed to the wall where I was hiding.

"Well, let's check." he sounded hopeful now. They quickly started progressing towards me. More sweating. They were closing in on me now. I couldn't make a dash for it without them seeing me. I looked down and saw my sewing bag, the only thing in it was my neckerchief, a couple of tissues, coins a spare change of clothes and the bear suit that Syd had 'borrowed'. There wasn't any way that I could fool them with my disguise, plus there wasn't any time to put the suit on, and I was missing the head piece. The only option I had was to run.

Narg and Steve were nearing me through my left side so I ran right at the farthest angle I could, to create as much distance between me and my chasers as possible. They immediately spotted me and were on my scent like a pack of hounds. As I ran, I tried to observe my surroundings as much as possible; this was really a very empty place, nothing much other than the inns, some houses and the usual health centres.

I couldn't even try to lose them, everywhere I went, they always doubled on me. I then realized that there wasn't any point in this chase. What was the worst thing that could happen? They'd only take me back home and at the most, lock me up. Over here, I didn't know anyone, didn't have any lodging and my money was sure to run at some point or the other. Besides, Narg and Steve weren't armed.

I was about to turn myself in, when it struck me, why weren't they armed? After all Billy had sent them to chase me, but how could they do that if they couldn't threaten me? Maybe Billy didn't want to forcefully bring me home, not alive that is, the most prudent thing I decided was to keep running until I exited this forsaken city, then I could call for help.

I made a sharp right and could immediately feel my mouth running dry, my limbs burning, I was tired, with little sleep and food, I'd soon pass out. It was then when I saw, to my relief, a little old wash house. I quickly glanced back to see if Narg and Steve could spot me. Good! They were temporarily lost, I climbed to the workhouse and opened the door. It almost broke because of the force exerted on it. I trod carefully on the rotting wood and slumped down on the floor, curling myself into a little ball. The air stank a lot, I could almost taste the stale air mingled with rust of the iron nails that held the door.

"Where did she go?" shouted Steve.

"I don't know, she's a little goose, I tell ya, running off into thin air!" yelled back Narg, his voice was well overhead. I sighed in relief, happy that there was a small chance of them even thinking to look for me in the wash house.

Minutes passed, and the day quickly progressed into night, I decided to stay at the house as I was sure I wouldn't get any other shelter tonight. It was confirmed that Syd and the others were probably held by Billy, otherwise he'd have come by now. I pushed back my tears, I couldn't cry, I was already starving and sleep deprived, I didn't want to top off my list with stress and sadness.

I curled myself into a little ball and tried to make myself as comfortable as possible on the cold hard floor. Most of the wood boards were rotten and sunk into the melted snow on the ground below them. Very few were still in a good condition.

The night I spent in that wash house was the worst night ever, I was shivering in my sleep and I knew it. My bones felt like they could break at any moment. Sometimes I felt that I could vomit at any moment, but the only reason why that didn't happen was because there was nothing to throw up, I hadn't eaten anything. I woke up from time to time, each time thinking that the sun was already in the sky.

I didn't know how much longer I could withstand the pain I was feeling.

At about eleven o'clock, I heard distant footsteps directed towards the wash house. Within a minute, the door opened and a shrill, chilly wind blew in. from the sound of the heavy footsteps, I could make out that it was a man. He carefully trod on the wooden planks and came to where I was sleeping. I was shivering, but this time it was not only from the cold, but also with fear.

The man didn't do anything but just sat on a chair, which I hadn't notice when I first came in. He took out a small purse and started counting his money, gleefully. He then grunted and made his way to where I was resting, this place was probably his. When he saw me, he shouted in surprise,

"Hey! What are you doing here? Get out!" his voice rumbled, deep and angry.

I tried getting up, but my legs were rooted to the ground, I couldn't even stand up.

"What are you waiting for? Get up...now!" he said impatiently. When he saw me struggling to my feet, he barked again at me.

Tired of watching me struggle as my arms shivered uselessly, he picked me up, opened the door and threw me out. Literally _threw_ me. I had nowhere to go or sleep, the wind howled all night as I tried to find a place to stay. It was then that I realized my clothes were wet, it must've probably become wet with all that melted snow. Anyway I didn't much time trying to find out how it happened, but all I knew was that I had to go somewhere warm.

I searched my sewing bag for my money, fumbling my fingers to open the string. I had exactly five shillings, I was happy to see that I could rent a warm place for the night. There was no way that I could stay outside, there were also Narg and Steve to think about, although it was highly unlikely that they would be out in this weather searching for me.

I started walking, my legs chattering for warmth and dryness. I started to snow and my breeches were soaking wet. I couldn't spot any place that would allow me to rent a place. My fingers were now turning numb and I could no longer feel them.

I spotted a small church, but instead of going inside, I stared hard at it. I knew this church and the little road that winded around it; in fact I knew this whole block. I'd been here before. I now realized how far I had travelled. In a trice, I ran in the west, my frozen blood melting as my heart was overfilled with joy at the fact that I finally knew where I was.

 **Hello, don't forget to vote, follow and comment if you enjoy reading this story. This is the end of chapter of chapter four.**


	6. Chapter 5-Pneumonia

**CHAPTER 5** _–Pneumonia_

I knocked the door as loud as I could and hugged my arms to keep warm. No one answered and I felt like crying as fear swept my heart at the possibility of them not being home, perhaps they were on a vacation, no... they couldn't be. They were too pious to share pleasures of this sort. I knocked again and again, persistently, hoping someone would open the door already.

Finally it opened, and a short, elderly woman stood at the other end.

"Good heavens, who art thou and what dost thou want at this time?" she asked sleepily.

"Miss Miller...do you remember me? It's Cat."

Her fatigue quickly cleared from her face as she realized who the person standing in front of her was.

"Sister Catherine, what art dost thou here?"

She took one look at my pale, frozen face and quickly ushered me in.

"Come in quickly my child, the weather is very rough."

Relieved that I was finally safe and sound and most crucially, warm, I stumbled onto the ground and blacked out. With all energy drained out of me, I slept for the next few hours.

I woke up much later, in a fresh comfortable bed with thick covers. The birds chirped outside and I smell something wonderful: breakfast. The door opened and Miss Prudence, the youngest of the Miller sisters came in with a tray and a hot bowl of water.

"Well Sister Catherine, it's good to see that thou art well again."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly at her and she smiled.

"Thou came in yesterday early in the morning and passed out on the floor, Sister Miller bought thee up and put thee in thy bed, she told me that thou weighed nothing, perhaps thou haven't been eating well." She said in her old fashioned English.

All the Miller sisters spoke like that, they were overly pious, very simple and sometimes odd, but were kind souls. I had temporarily stayed with them in my last adventure when I was trying to free Pedro and I needed a place to hide from the runners that were looking for me. The Millers had been there for me when I had needed a place to stay and I was eternally grateful to them.

I nodded. Flashbacks of what exactly happened last night were now swirling in my head, my head and legs were still paining but on the whole, I was feeling much better. Miss Prudence placed a tray on my lap. I looked lusciously at it, there was a bowl of milk and bread with jam. I took a big bite of the sandwich and sipped my milk. Miss Prudence took a white napkin and dipped it in the hot water and dabbed it on my temples, the hot water drove away the cold I had felt in my head. I couldn't breathe as my nose was blocked.

"How art thou feeling?"

"Warm, Miss Prudence, I am feeling much better, thank you."

She looked at me tenderly, dabbing the warm towel on my forehead.

"What dost thou in the cold weather?" her voice was choked with concern.

"Well, as you can expect, I may have now found myself in another pickle."

And then I explained everything to her: setting out to free Randall, Billy catching us, me escaping from Narg and Steve which led me to their place.

"Thou has come a long way, I can't imagine how thou dost it. All that young blood." She shook her head.

"That's nothing, Miss Prudence, Syd and the others are being held captive by Billy." I sobbed.

She raised an eyebrow with a confused countenance.

"How dost thou know?" she asked.

I let my head drop down, I didn't know what had happened to them, they could even be dead, either that or that louse Billy would torture them, starve them or beat them up, and I had so cowardly run away. I cursed myself for being a coward. I thought that I had said it in my head, but I hadn't as Miss Prudence was now glaring at me for indecent use of words. I looked up at her sheepishly and responded to her question.

"Syd would've come by now, but the fact that he didn't screams loud and clear that he is held by Billy." My heart was heavy as I imagined every possible way that Billy would torture them, the only hope I had was that Syd and the his lads were strong and they had somehow managed to escape.

"Do not fear, Sister Catherine, for the Lord is mighty, He dost mighty works that us simple beings can't even imagine." She soothed.

She must've seen my downcast face as she kept on comforting and encouraging me not to worry, but how could I do that? I only stopped when the familiar pain returned to my body, what was wrong with it? It wouldn't just stop coming back. For a moment I was anxious, what if I was seriously ill, I couldn't go and help Syd, I wouldn't even be able to leave the house, and winter was already well set in, the weather would just aggravate my health.

Miss Prudence left me and told me to change into a dress that was laid out on a chair, I hadn't even noticed she left, not until I could hear her talking to her sisters downstairs.

I pushed my worries out of my head, promising myself to plan the safest and shortest journey back to the Sparrow's Nest. I knew that there was no way that the Millers would allow me to go alone, but I didn't have a choice, I would even die trying to get back to save Syd, he had been there for me all my life and now, when he needs me, I'll be there for me. The last thing that anyone can pin me for is a coward.

I quickly finished my meal, made myself presentable and went downstairs.

The Millers lived in a very small yet decent home, they didn't have much but neither did they want to. They despised anything rich or fancy, believing that it only added to one's world hunger.

Miss Miller, the oldest and Miss Fortitude were in the sitting room, quietly knitting blue sweaters. They looked up when I came in. Miss Fortitude came over and hugged me tight, but Miss Miller just sat where she was, tight lipped. I could almost feel her glaring at me. Miss Fortitude saw my worried expression on my face and explained,

"Dost thou not fear, Sister Catherine, our Sister Miller be just anxious as to why thou had come yesterday and why thou had chosen to pay such a late visit."

I heaved a silent sigh of relief, happy that she wasn't mad at me. I quickly gave a brief account of happened last night, my heart burdening again as I desperately wanted to help, right there and then.

"Thou sayest that thou art being chased." Miss Miller said, her eyebrow cocked up, as if they were asking a question. _"Who is it this time?"_ they seemed to ask.

I nodded, "Billy's gang members: two people called Steve and Narg, he set them out after me as Syd and me, we double crossed him, made a deal and then broke it."

"How dost thou propose to care of this?" Miss Miller asked me, finally speaking.

Before I could even speak, Miss Miller continued,

"I shall not hear of you running away alone, we shall keep a close watch on thee," she said sternly, "so make sure that thou dost not stray away from the path of obedience."

I widened my eyes; they knew me so well already, even though I had just stayed with them once before, but it wasn't for a long time. Still, I always made a very prominent first impression on anyone that I knew.

I didn't reply as I didn't trust myself to say anything wise, but I acknowledged her and nodded. Miss Miller tightly nodded her head in response and continued her knitting.

"Well then Sister Catherine, since thou hast come here, I'm sure the Lord has a greater purpose for thou," Miss Fortitude beamed, nearing me, "We shall be going to the Flocks Hospital tomorrow to help those less fortunate than us oldsters." She pointed to a small round table, with a homemade brown basket lined with Cretonne, surrounding it were clothes, food and even a few small toys.

"Sister Catherine, would thou mind packing them?" she asked, wagging her fingers towards the table.

I shook my head and walked over the rounded table. I started with the heaviest victuals and ended with the lightest. Most of the food was homemade and simple, there were sponge cakes, jams, chocolate bars, milk and some children's books. When I finished packing, I laid a simple course cloth on top of the basket and tied it firmly. Pleased, I went back and sat down with the trio.

"I finished packing." I informed them.

Miss Prudence looked up from her knitting and smiled,

"Thank you Sister Catherine, but I am afraid that we shall not be able to go today." she pointed to her sweater, even though it wasn't completed, it still looked amazing and I was sure that it would turn out to be even better when it would be completed.

She continued, "Our sweaters aren't done and the youngsters won't be happy if we set out today to give it to them."

"Oh, is the hospital far away? This vicinity doesn't seem like it holds any."

"Thou art right Sister Catherine, the Flocks Hospital art fifteen miles away from our home."

I let the words sink in as I let out another 'oh', I didn't think that I could handle another long walk, it would be too much for me to handle, especially since I could feel a small fever itching its way in my head. The cold returning to my bones and I silently begged for it to stop. I coughed as my throat felt a little itchy. My cough was course and came off a little gruff as Miss Miller was alarmed, she drew in a sharp intake of breath and said,

"Sister Catherine, I am afraid that thy cold hath only aggravated." She shifted in her seat a little bit and straightened up her posture as if she was readying herself for something.

"Cough again." She silently commanded.

I did as she told me and it came out gruff as the last time.

"Dost thou chest hurt when thou cough?" she asked me tenderly.

I was slightly taken aback when she asked me this, partly because I was scared that she knew this even though I didn't tell her and partly because she was on the verge of telling me some bad news.

"Yes." I replied as soft as my itchy throat would let me.

She sighed and drew in another sharp breath.

"Thou might be facing the danger of having pneumonia, it's a deadly fever and last night, when thou were wandering aimlessly in the streets, thou must've gotten it." The words were dead and grave.

Pneumonia was almost cureless, and whatever cures the doctors did have didn't prove to be very useful. People often died if they had it, I remembered so many people telling me to keep warm this winter and I had taken their advice a little lightly. But I had good reason for this, I had a strong body that didn't cower down with fever and if I did rarely get one, I could fight it off easily, but now it was different.

I silently groaned as the next inevitable words exited Miss Miller's mouth.

"Thou will have to be hospitalized; we dost haven't any cure for thou here." Her words were filled with genuine sorrow, in fact it was almost packed with that and regret.

"We were discussing about thine health yesterday and it looks like your fever is rapidly progressing, therefore we planned to leave today in case thou fever showed any signs." Miss Prudence chipped in, she got up and walked slowly to me, kneeled next to my chair and tenderly caressed my face and continued,

"Thou were coughing terribly last night, it was only when we woke up and attended to thou, that thou stopped but I'm afraid that that medicine won't do thou any permanent repair."

"So we'll have to go today?"

"Yes."

This time I groaned, the situation was already worsening before I could even plan my means of escaping here, if I was trapped in a hospital, it would be even harder to escape.

Miss Prudence kissed my forehead to comfort me, but it didn't do me any good. Syd was probably starving by now and his situation must've already worsened. I felt guilty that I was to be nursed with a fever that my weak body couldn't handle while they were probably being mistreated. I didn't have much time to be absorbed in my thoughts of self-pity and sadness. The Millers quickly started preparing food for the journey and Miss Prudence went outside to the next door neighbor where the milkman lived.

I peeked out the window, behind the curtain as Miss Prudence knocked sharply on the door. A chubby little woman opened the door and when she heard everything about my health condition her eyes darted to the Miller's house. I hastily ducked behind the curtain. I risked a peep again after a few moments had passed, but this time Miss Prudence was no longer standing at the door, she was having a conversation with the milkman, inside the living room. That was his wife that had answered the door.

Miss Prudence soon emerged from the house and made her way back to her home. She sighed but this time, it was a little light and not so burdened.

"Mrs. Jones said that her husband would be much obliged to help us, pray, I hope that thou illness isn't grave."

I sat down on a chair and rested my head, I was already feeling very fatigued and the day had only started! My head felt heavy as I laid it down, my headache seemed to be worsening with every passing second. Further away, I could hear the jostling of the metal dishes as Miss Miller and Miss Fortitude bustled away with their cooking.

"Good Lord, what will the youngsters think when they will see this." Miss Prudence said, holding up an incomplete sweater. I gave a small nod, trying my best to acknowledge her and ignore the growing pain in my whole body but it didn't work.

"Sister Catherine dost thou alright?" her voice painted with concern. She came closer and felt my forehead and frowned. She hurried to the kitchen and moments later arrived with a cup of hot milk.

"We are truly sorry but we don't have any hot chocolate," her voice dropped down low, "my sisters forbid anything fancy."

I gave a small smile, remembering the first time I came here, when Miss Prudence had showed her ribbon collection. A wonderful one with all sorts of pretty, colourful cloth and the look of disapproval when Miss Miller had spotted a blue ribbon fastened on to her youngest sister's hair.

"It's alright, milk is fine." I choked out. My stiffened jaw hurt as I slowly opened it, blew the smoke away and drank it. I felt the hot milk warm my throat and then burn my chest.

The Millers were now done with their cooking, two of them went upstairs and started packing while Miss Prudence stayed and attended to me. She had taken a liking to me, I noticed that, as she spent every free second with me and I enjoyed that. I loved the feeling of being cared of. I was considered a nuisance to most of the people in Drury Lane, a stumbling block in their way. Not everyone treated me like I didn't exist, there were a lot of kind theatre folk and there was Syd's gang too, that made me feel at home, safe and sound. Syd, how I missed him and how I left him to handle the brunt of Billy's ugly side. Not that he had a decent, tolerable side.

I heard footsteps making their way down the stairs and approaching me, a hand gently shook my shoulder.

"Sister Catherine, wake up. We dost have to make our way to the hospital."

I hadn't even realized that I had drifted off to sleep. I slowly opened my eyes and saw Miss Miller's face close to mine, staring. My eyes were now completely awake, but I still felt tired and groggy. I was still sitting on the chair, staring back at Miss Miller.

Impatiently, she pulled my arm when I hadn't budged from my seat for a few moments.

"Sister Catherine, we really have to get going, can thou walk, do dost need to be carried?" I searched her voice for sarcasm, but there wasn't any. She was pretty serious.

I shook my head and groaned, immediately regretting doing that, as painful bangs shot through my skull, like thick needles.

The next second, a pair of strong boned hands lifted me up and I was resting my head on Miss Miller's shoulder. She smelled like warm meat pies and burning candles. Miss Miller exited the house and placed me gently on the hard wooden carriage of the milkman. The other two sisters quickly ushered out with baskets of packed food and knitted sweaters. When we were all settled in for the long journey, I heard the crack of a whip and the deep voice of a man, probably the milkman.

"Are you ladies ready?" asked Mr. Jones.

"Yes Brother Luke, we are." Miss Fortitude replied.

"Well then, come on Sally, off we go." He cracked the whip again and the carriage moved with a very disturbed, restless Sally.

I passed out for a long time and I remember waking up when Sally, the donkey, brayed, a loud and long bray. I woke up with a jerk. Miss Prudence who was sitting near me also jumped a bit and then smiled.

"Ah! Sister Catherine, thou hast finally woken up from thine slumber." She looked like she was holding back a laugh.

"How long was I out?"

"Oh, not very long, around two hours."

I looked around my surroundings after my eyes got adjusted to the blinding sun. This place looked familiar, it even smelled familiar. I looked up and saw a wooden sign with scrawled letters. I tilted my head and squinted to read the faded letters, 'Welcome to Square Fac'.

Square Fac, where had I heard it before? The answer came tumbling when I saw the same inn I was kicked out from: The Good Times. So that's where we were, the place Johnny dropped me off. We were passing by the back of the inn, just then I saw Margaret come out the back entrance carrying some napkins and 'cleaning' them by shaking the dust off of them. I smiled.

"Ah then, Miss Royal, feeling better are we?" asked Mr Jones sparing a look back from the driver's seat. His fair face beamed bright red like that of a tomato.

"Yes, I am, thank you." I half lied. The truth was, I was feeling a little out of breath, even though I wasn't tired anymore, my throat was itching and every time I coughed, my chest would hurt. But I never said anything to anyone, there was no good complaining.

"Fear not Sister Catherine, thine cold will be better." Miss Fortitude comforted me at the right time, like as if she could read my thoughts. I acknowledged her politely with a small nod, but nothing truly comforted me, I was not only feeling physical pain but my mind was continuously restless, I kept on thinking where Syd could be, what had happened of him.

We travelled for a couple more hours and then arrived at a pit stop. The Milers and Mr. Jones must have come her often on previous trips to the hospital for the landlady knew the Millers.

"Another trip to the hospital, well then, I insist that you stay here for free. No, Miss Miller, you paid me the last time and the fee taken, that was taken with a heavy heart. I don't want my conscious blackened again. You're going to help the less fortunate, the least I can do for you, is make it a little easier." She paused and looked at me, realizing that this was the first time we had met.

"Well then, is this your find at the children's care centre? If so, she is extremely pretty. Ah! I always wanted my Abigail to have red hair and green eyes like yours. Although your complexion is ghastly, excuse my saying so, but, child are you sick?"

Before I could answer, Miss Miller intervened and saved from the awkward situation of the landlady's blatant straightforwardness.

"Yes, Sister Agatha, thou are right, she is sick, sick with pneumonia, however with prayers, she'll be better."

"And I am afraid thou art wrong Sister Agatha, she isn't 'our find', Miss Prudence chuckled, a little nervously, "she belongs to the theater, she is one of the theater folk, strange people they are." She added.

"Prudence! I am sorry Sister Agatha, but we are in a haste, we have to get Sister Catherine to the hospital, if thou will be so kind as to serve us our soup."

"No! Not at all, it has been over the fire, for quite some time now- and oh my, what a terrible thing...pneumonia." She shook her head and clucked her tongue, "my two month niece got it last year and died, poor little thing."

She must've seen my silent horrified expression for she continued, "I am sorry for my impudence..." she pause, trying to remember my name, "Catherine? Was it?"

I nodded my head.

"My name is Julie Agatha Shwann, pleased to meet you." She held out a hand and looked me in the eye, I shook it and introduced myself.

"I am Catherine Royal." I said between quick gasps of air. I bobbed a curtsey and with all the introduction formalities, she led us into the kitchen. At the end of the kitchen stood a fireplace, with a deep yellow fire burning. The furniture in the room was pretty simple, but it emitted that homey feeling, a perfect place for weary travellers.

I quickly sunk in one of chairs at the dining table and smiled as Mr. Jones, the milkman, slumped down in one next to me and stretched out his legs and gave out a content purr. In the distance, the Millers and Miss Agatha were chatting away as they poured soup into bowls and took the bread out of the little grey stone oven.

They bought the food over and we dined.

I was feeling a little nauseous, but the warm soup and bread roused my appetite and I was digging in my bowl, I even asked for a second serving which was graciously provided.

Half through our supper, I heard the rustling of feet and the door and the shuffling of paper, I looked back and saw that a slip of paper was lying under the door, in the kitchen. I excused myself, got up and went over to the kitchen door. I bent down and picked up the little piece of paper.

I saw that it was a flyer, I briefly read the contents, but while I was reading it, I couldn't help but escape the feeling that this piece of paper was a bit similar to another pamphlet I had read, but I couldn't recollect all the details.

I quickly opened the door and scanned the crowd for the deliverer. There was no one really who stood out as a newspaper boy or a messenger, but I had a gut feeling that it was a scrawny boy far off running straight. He had weedy form and brown curly hair. I stared at his running form, increasing the distance with each passing second, and then I retreated back into the kitchen.

"Where did you go Catherine?" The landlady asked me.

"Uh...nowhere, someone dropped off this pamphlet and I just wanted to see who it was." I replied.

Miss Agatha looked at me, frowning, I thought she was suspicious about something. It was funny the way this woman acted, with her blunder of mentioning that her niece died of pneumonia, seconds after she came to know that I was suffering from it. She probably didn't like children staying her.

"That's funny, there are hardly any flyers here, with the exception of those business ones, about the revolution and so on and so forth. Utter rubbish this is, the industrial revolution, what will be next?" She shook her head vigorously, while dramatically keeping her eyes closed.

"Well actually, this is not actually about the revolution, it's about some new hospital that opened up, not very far from here. They're just trying to promote it." I suggested.

All the sisters' eyes lit up with joy at the news of a nearby hospital.

"That's strange," said Miss Agatha, "people never deliver flyers personally to your house. Why not just pin them in the streets?"

"Yes." I seconded, I took another look at the pamphlet, the same, cheap yellow paper with same black print. I quietly pocketed it. I felt that it was a little impolite to do so but, there wasn't any harm and it definitely wasn't stealing.

I returned to the table and finished my meal.

It was already decided by the Millers that they would send me to the hospital before the sun went down. So, after we finished our supper and the table was cleared, the Millers dressed me up as warm as possible and set out. Mr. Jones offered to drive us down in his little cart but Miss Miller refused.

"Thou dost get some sleep, Brother Jones, thou hast been more than kind by driving us all at daybreak." She said.

Mr. Jones, being the gentleman he was, argued, of course but eventually we convinced him to sleep for a bit. Miss Prudence looked down at me and smiled.

"Dost not worry, Sister Catherine, I am sure that thou will enjoy the walk, it is considered to be very relaxing." She coaxed me.

We set out as the sun was setting, making way for the moon to take its place and occupy the sky with its frosty moonlight. I sighed, my chest felt heavy as my lungs felt cold. I often had to stop and catch my breath, being tired easily was another challenge for me.

The Millers had to often stop and wait for me, I felt like an elderly person that was being cared for. I somehow felt useless as I knew that pneumonia had finally managed to catch a hold of me and this time, I was in for a rough ride.

 **Hello my lovely readers, so this is the first time that I am posting a FULL chapter in ONE day. Crazy right? Are my chapter too long, medium or short, and what do you think of my fanfic so far? Is it a pretty good shot at the actual Cat Royal series? Let me know in the comments below.**


	7. Chapter 6-On my way to the factory

**CHAPTER 6** – On my way to the factory

I don't remember walking all the way to the hospital, but I do remember blacking out...again. I woke up, and the sight that met my eyes wasn't as comforting as waking up in the Miller's house. The place smelled a little musty but it wasn't that bad. I looked around and saw that my bed was the only one in the room. I noticed that my breathing was a little heavy and I soon discovered why.

Stuffed in my nose was slightly slimy orange peel. I was grossed out and tried to yank it out but my arms felt weak and numb. There was no one in the room and I couldn't see much of my little cabin as it was very dark. Prompted by the dimness of the room, I decided to sleep a little bit more as my eyes were shutting down.

I woke up with a start as a petite woman in a clean white and blue uniform, pushed the door open. It screeched with every jolt and sudden stop. I blocked my ears of the sound as she marched in with a wooden tray. She laid it on a small table near my bed that I hadn't noticed before. My eyes were still blurring from all the sleepiness and pain.

"How are you feeling deary?" she asked me, she sounded tired, clearly it was because of the depressing work environment.

"Um...I am a little better after that nap, although I do get this pain in my chest when I cough." I informed her.

She was busy opening up a package, I expected her to say something but she didn't reply for a long time, as soon as it was undone, she gave a little content sigh. I turned my head to see what it was, but I did it slowly as I didn't want her to think that I was prying, I saw that it was leaves.

Literally a package containing just leaves, I sunk my head back into the pillow and watched as she took a handful of the leaves and shoved them into her mouth like a kid trying to hide a batch of newly discovered candy. She munched it happily for a couple of moments before she finally spoke.

"Yes, the Millers were telling me that you had pneumonia." The tone of her voice was much more energized now, she was probably happy from all that chewing.

"Now," she said, her mouth full with the thoroughly munched up leaves, "do you feel often feel tired, nauseous or shortness of breath?" she asked me.

I nodded. She took out a little notebook and jotted something down. She proceeded to then ask me some questions and then took my weight and my height. I then heard footsteps nearing the room where I was in, and then voices made themselves clear.

"Oh, the Millers are here! And so early, did they stay in the hospital?" I asked the nurse. She didn't bother to grace my question with an answer but ran to the corner of the room as if she was afraid of the timid women.

She spat the leaves in the brown paper in which they were packed and threw it into the bin. She then poured some water in a bowl and dipped her towel in it and started dabbing my forehead.

Just then, the Millers opened the door, as always Miss Prudence came running to me and kissed me.

"Oh Sister Catherine, dost excuse me for my fondling." She said abashedly. I smiled warmly at her. The whole hospital may have just become brighter with her cheery light heartedness.

"It's okay, Miss Prudence, I missed you too."

Miss Miller went to the window and drew the curtains.

"Jenna, why dost thou not care to draw the curtains? It's so dark in here my child." She shook her head.

"Sorry Miss Miller, I just came two seconds ago." She lied. I didn't say anything, I didn't even mind, but there was something funny about this nurse Jenna, the way she acted was like as if she was afraid of the Millers, and that was peculiar because they would be the last people I would expect someone to be scared of.

"Oh, I thought thou hath arrived some time ago. How is Sister Catherine?"

"She is feeling _much_ better." She smiled, another white lie. "I will just change this." She said, pointing to the orange peel in my nose. She yanked it out and threw it. She took out another one, but this time, it was much more fresh and cold.

She folded it and put it in my nose, all the while smiling.

"I don't think the orange peel seems to be helping me, Miss Jenna. This remedy must be for a common cold." I notified her, (which drained the blood out of her cheeks for a second) if this even was a remedy.

She gave a nervous laugh and said, "Youngsters! The cheek of them." She then turned to me, with her back facing the sisters. Her eyes glinted with a dangerous steely look as she silently told me to shut up. I said no more and just sunk deeper in the bed, but I gave her an icy look. I did not like this nurse one bit.

"Perhaps Sister Jenna, Sister Catherine art right? I seem to think that thy medicine dost not work." Miss Prudence seconded me.

"Well, this is a treatment for the first stage of any cold, if it has no effect, I will have a word with the doctors and change the prescription." Jenna chuckled.

Miss Miller raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. The nurse gave another nervous chuckle and kept silent for quite some, still looking like a guilty person trying to convince someone that she was innocent.

"Well...uh...if you'd be so kind as to leave uh...visitors can't stay for long unless with a doctor's permit. Patients are better off when alone, they uh... get healed much faster." She informed.

"Oh," Miss Prudence sighed, "well yes, I dost not suppose that we can spend too much time in gathering." She said bitterly.

I smiled at her, "Don't worry Miss Prudence, I'll be fine."

"Oh and uh...Sister Catherine, this art for thee." She said holding up a basket." Miss Miller pointed out. "Use it judiciously."

"I will," I replied, "thank you."

"Goodbye." She nodded and with that all the sisters departed in obedience.

When the door was slammed shut, Jenna turned to me, her face inches from mine,

"Don't you dare spill the beans, you little roach."

I looked at her suspiciously, my temper flaring up a bit , I would scream at her and demanded what she had meant by it, but the fact was I already knew what she was talking about, I had figured out what she was chewing when she spat them out in haste as the Millers were approaching.

Yet I held an innocent face so she wouldn't press me anymore, I was tired of defending myself, I wanted to save my energy to get the hell out of this place and back into the warmth of the Sparrow's Nest.

"Now...let's see what we have here," Jenna coolly said as the little pickpocket rummaged about the contents of my basket. She picked up and inspected a bottle of red jam and cackled like a witch.

"My! I haven't seen such a delicious looking jam like this in years!" she unscrewed the lid and stuck a nosy finger in the sticky condiment.

"Hmm...even tastes delicious, tastes like those jams my mother used to make at home." I would have been saddened at the nostalgia that thickened her voice, but the only problem was that that emotion was disguised with a very thin layer of thievery. My only concern was if her hands were clean or not.

She continued her rummage and after the wooden basket was thoroughly searched, she ended up with some silverware, a loaf of bread, some fruits, the jam and two blue knitted sweaters. She grinned like a lunatic at her 'find'.

After she was left with the contents, I snatched the basket and inspected its remains, there was nothing much left, except for some napkins and neckerchiefs. I immediately wrapped the neckerchief and stuffed the napkins in my sewing bag. It might not be much of what I had, but I wasn't going to let her rob me of this, in case she changed her mind later.

I sighed and slumped down in my bed, this place drove me crazy, all my emotions were getting the best of me and I was angry and depressed, from the time I escaped with the help of Johnny, leaving Syd to be at the mercy of Billy, I hated myself for thinking that Billy could be stronger than Syd and I hated the fact that I was weak and couldn't even help myself.

I felt like a coward and a burden to the world, without a single use in the world.

Without thinking I got up with such force, picked up the basket and smashed it. Not stopping there, I picked it up again and began tearing it up apart and only stopped when I had splinters on my hand. With a small smirk, I was satisfied, but it didn't calm my anxiety down, I started pacing back and forth.

I was surprised at myself, I was never the one to act violently or irrationally. This was the first time, that I acted on my anger, and the momentary satisfaction only served as fuel.

I began to think about everything that had happened, ever since Syd had decided to ditch Billy and go ahead with his instinct, the way Johnny acted when I asked him, who we really were trying to save, his face paled for a moment and then regained its colour. I began to think about Syd's concerned face and the constant slip of the tongue that the victim wasn't Randall. It wasn't even a boy, it was a girl. I racked my brains to contemplate who this person could be and it took me a moment to finally stumble upon the fact that there was really no one that important in my life who was a female, except the Millers.

But they were right here with me, they couldn't possibly stuck, working in a factory. My mind then recoiled to the night that Billy sent Narg and Steve after us, it never hit me immediately, but Narg and Steve weren't even armed, they couldn't really threaten me to return.

And then it hit me, Narg and Steve weren't chasing me, it was more like they were directing my path, and I fell straight for it.

Right into the lion's den. It was almost impossible to rid them, as I realized they already knew my next move, it was already pre-calculated. They knew my destination, but they always wanted to shift it towards somewhere.

Where, exactly? Well I wasn't sure of that, but I had somehow managed to escape and take refuge under the wings of the Millers.

But I wasn't safe, they would be after me, they always were. They have been chasing me for a whole complete day, and I knew deep down in my gut, that I was staying with the Millers. Maybe, that was the place that they had intended me to go to.

I shrieked in horror as my mind was racing with a million possibilities quickly narrowed to the one and only.

There was no way on earth that I could outrun two grown men, regardless of their stupidity as I was weak. They made me weak. They purposely prolonged chasing me, so that I would possibly get pneumonia, seek help from the Millers, (as I had done before) and then end up here, in this miserable hospital, away from the watchful eyes of the sisters. Vulnerable and weak, kidnap me at my prime, but what was the motive? If they wanted to kidnap me, why not get the job over with?

I lay there in my pool of thoughts, but it seemed like I was going around in circles, I couldn't arrive at a conclusion. And it was driving me insane. At one point I was getting too frustrated that I knew I would throw another fit, unless I walked it off.

I jumped off the bed and looked at the pathetic mess of the basket I had just ripped apart. In my opinion, I wish I had picked something else, probably something that belonged to the nurse. I was pretty mad at the fact that she took everything, but I would get it all back, no doubt about that.

I was planning on running away, now that I had figured pretty much the gist of Billy's wretched plan for me, but not his motive. I so desperately wanted to know what he was driving at.

He had always looked down at me for my predictability, he accused me of being an easy person to figure out. I wanted to change that. I wanted to counteract whatever plot he had designed for me.

He knew that the first chance I would get, I'd come back to Drury Lane, to help Syd. In all truth, that was what I wanted to do, but I couldn't, because I knew the second I would step in Drury Lane, he would capture me. I couldn't just step in casually and try to find out about Syd, I had to sneak in.

I cautiously opened the door and peeked out, the corridor contained just a handful of people. The Millers weren't kidding when they said that visitors weren't allowed to stay in for the night. I was about to walk outside when I spotted the nurse that attended to me, make a sharp right, allowing herself to be completely visible.

I immediately shut the door, before she could see me and looked around in my room. I would have to change out my hospital attire.

I walked over to the little wooden chair where my clothes were folded. I picked out the shirt, trousers and before I left, I eyed a small brown cloche, it must've probably belonged to the nurse. I put it on and hoped that I was disguised enough. I didn't know what my plans were just yet, whether to stay in the hospital to get better or to escape the hospital.

I walked out with more or less confidence now that I was disguised. I tucked my red hair under the cloche and avoided eye contact with anyone who sent me suspicious glances. The hospital was like a maze of long corridors and different rooms, the hospital was quite clean but frankly it had a ghastly aura, ironically, this place looked like it was sick. Like it needed someone to tend to it and renovate the entire building. I stopped walking when I spotted a window. Standing on my tippy toes, I opened the drapes and I peeked out, there wasn't much of a view, as there was another building facing the hospital.

 **HI GUYS, I appreciate all the people who have read my story, please do vote and add it to your library so you'll be aware of when I update. And most importantly comment, because I would love to hear from you! XD**


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